Calling an audible

Our afternoon session at the climbing gym went by the wayside owing to a key broken off in the lock of an old VW van. My friend's day went up in smoke, waiting for a locksmith. Choring took sway, and I got a couple of lovely loaves of bread baked by the time we needed to leave to meet friends for wine and a bite to eat. We met at a wine bar in a nearby restaurant; had a nice Argentinian Malbec and a Washington State syrah from Syncline Vineyards. The latter went nicely with my grilled lambburger.
The other man at the table besides my Beloved Spouse was suffering from the effects of a chemical facial peel. He had been invited to a party of all women the other night, and the main event of this party was getting one's face treated while eating handmade tamales and drinking wine. I had thought he'd just gotten a lot of sun, maybe skiing or hiking. The after effects of this peel were similar, except perhaps accelerated. He seemed to be shedding as our evening wore on, and in increasing discomfort.
I am less "girly" than even some men; there is no fucking way I would ever do this, unless I were being treated for cancer, or leprosy.