It had been a few days, and he`d forgotten to send Chambers the location for the proposed meeting. That had been an embarrassing oversight, as he read Chambers` message on the corkboard: a direct invitation to his sanctum, something he hadn`t even considered, having initially planned the meeting at some bar- more neutral ground. True to form, he`d brought a bottle of Baileys and one of Angostura Bitters for Chambers. He`d keep the second in reserve to gift him if it seemed he liked the first one. Hopefully he likes them. His `bitter drinks` request had not been forgotten, after all. He`d also brought some non-alcoholic punch and of course, his by-this-point-almost-trademark chocolate chip cookies, in his backpack.
Dressed in casual clothes: gray-green shoes, gray jacket and blue sweater, he decided it wasn`t a formal-formal occasion. Soon enough, he came to Chambers` house-boat at the appropriate time and place. It was a formidable place. Quite a cool life you lead. he though, with the tiniest pinch of envy when compared to his tiny, almost squalid apartment. Close to the pier by the house-boat but not on it yet, he shouted:
"Permission to come aboard, Mason?" It seemed appropriate and a given to ask for permission to enter his Sanctum, after all. And it seemed Chambers had been preparing for his arrival, as the by-now-almost-characteristic smell of his delicioous cooking gently and invitingly wafted through the air.
After curteously waiting for a response to his request to come aboard, he added:
"I do apologise. I simply forgot to send you my adress. It simply slipped my mind, and then I was swamped with work. Wayy too many meetings that went through the night, and preparations that turned to all-nighters."
Equipment: backpack with a bottle of Baileys and one of Angostura Bitters, 1 thermos flask of very hot non-alcoholic punch, paper towels, jar of chocolate chip cookies, order-tool-slash-phone, wallet, first-aid kit, can of hairspray, lighter, pack of cigarettes