Maybe another day. Continue reading
It started off as many of my weekends begin: with a nap.
My company offers half days for Summer Fridays, bless them. This week kicked my a$$ and I needed to recharge.
Sometimes iconic experiences don’t live up to the hype but Peter Luger absolutely did. I loved it.
The restaurant is from another time. It was established in 1887 but is aging quite well.
There are gleaming brass light fixtures throughout, wood paneling and in a little booth, a purple haired cashier (I’m pretty sure her hair isn’t purple out of trendiness). The servers, all men from what I can tell, are no-nonsense. Not brusque, but efficient.
Today at the coffee shop…
Australians ordering flat whites.
The guy I pretend not to see, and not to know.
Two people, one male and one female, who look like troll dolls come to life. Maybe it’s the beanies.
Lounging long-haired lesbians
A photographer, and a stylist and an artfully rumpled model looking bored
A woman resembling grown up Lorde
Me listening to Sia on repeat while writing a handful of proposals, booking business trips to Nashville and London, and marveling at this tweet:
One of the things I love most about life in NYC is the sense that I can never completely know it. There will always be secrets to uncover. Something new replacing something old. Mysteries just down the block.
And here’s one: a beach of sorts right in my neighborhood.
Who knows: maybe in a few more years, we’ll really want to.
I did buy this ring. Continue reading