Outdoor restaurant seating has popped up all over New York City during the last couple of years. It’s not nearly as exciting or romantic as al fresco dining in Paris, but it’s got a certain appeal. As I write this, I am enjoying a cappuccino and gazpacho outdoors at a restaurant directly across the street from my apartment. I am making believe I am on vacation.
An outdoor cafe in Queens. It’s not Paris, but it will have to do.
Now that summer is here, and we aren’t bundled up in coats and sweaters, I am noticing quite a few women who are obviously anorexic. I saw a thirty-something whose legs were so thin, it’s a wonder they had the strength to hold her up. I also spotted an FOF so skinny she looked like she was 100. It’s hard to fathom how someone as emaciated could deceive herself when she looks into a mirror. It is sad.
Dined last night with good friends and married couple, Mira and Vince, and had a spirited, if not sobering, conversation about life after death, the economy, gay rights and health care. We didn’t solve the world’s problems but it’s always stimulating to hear everyone’s viewpoints.
A FOF at the nail salon was showing off a photo of her new grandson and, lo and behold, turns out the baby’s parents are my son’s good friends. As a matter of fact, my son and the baby’s mom met and became best friends when they were two. It’s a small world, after all, especially in your local beauty salon.