Perfect Evening

Let's make one thing very clear: the perfect evening would obviously involve transportation to a parallel dimension where intimate relations with multiple hot hot Hollywood starlets would be a) possible; and b) free of any moral quandaries. And where eating copious amounts of sushi was a) affordable; and b) free of any dietary quandaries.

Until such is possible (or until I am transported to the parallel dimension where I am mature enough not to fantasize about scenarios as ridiculous as they are reprehensible) the following perfect evening is hereby proposed:

Meeting at a friend's house for Boggle (or Scrabble) with the people I love, with moderate amounts of Sushi (and/or a fine cheese on crackers, or fine dark chocolate). And then, instead of work, home to sleep in my own bed with my delicious wife.

If you're thinking you can top this, then you have never a) played word games with my friends; or b) slept with my wife. In which case you have no way of knowing and should excuse yourself from the debate permanently, given that you are a) never going to sleep with my wife; and b) not invited to our word games.