oh, all the time

Hmm. My interest is wanning.

I'm having pleasant memories of last Friday night wherein I had dinner solo at the bar of Gramercy Tavern, post the LA ART in New York show at the Altman Building. 

Delicious and delightful and packed with young-ish, yuppie-ish urbanites loosening their ties and lips at the end of the week.

Three women showed up after a dinner at Per Se and huddled near me in an effort to get Jeremy-the-bartender-with-white-rimmed-glasses-and-visible-tattoos' attention. They were looking to order a round of vodka and hoping to get my help.

We made chit-chat and had a cheers when the drinks finally arrived.

One of the women keeps staring and finally she says, "Okay, I'm just going to say it because you must get this all the time. Right?"

I have no idea what she is about to say, so I just smile, nod, etc.

She continues, "I mean...you look just like Scarlett Johansson."

Oh my god, did I mention I am in love with this drunk stranger? And I don't usually think about women that way.

(Although, I think I may love Natalie too. Hubba, hubba.)

Okay, it does occasionally happen.

But always by people I pay money to. Like my hairdresser or facialist or the Trader Joe's check-out guy.

But I'll take it. Thank you (drunk lady who just had a four hour dinner at Per Se).

I'm totally wearing my hair slicked back tonight.

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