The Weekend

Friday I left work and was able to have a few cocktails with my new co-workers. We sat outside in a typical New York sidewalk bar. I had an aproicot martini and we all laughed and joked about the weekend. A friend of one my the guys stopped by to say hi. “You might remember him from the Dockers Ads, he is a Dockers model”. I said “Oh, Nice Pants”. He smiled. He didn’t get the joke. Typical model. I hopped in a cab and went downtown to the gourmet garage (a little food store that has a pretty good selection of cooking staples). I picked up some mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, brie, strawberries, string beans and decided on pork chops for the main course. I was cooking dinner that evening for my fabulous friend B. B. is gorgeous, intelligent and is a truly kind individual with a great apartment in the West Village. Apparently though he was not much of a cook because his kitchen lacked pepper and olive oil and his oven I do not believe had ever been turned on. No matter. I cut the brie and strawberries, he opened the wine and we talked. We laughed through three long courses separated by glasses of wine and double bock beer. I always love the walk back to the subway from B.’s house. The cobble stone streets glisten in the dark. The little boutiques windows are always list, shining on purses, shoes and dresses looking for their match. I went home and fell into a deep sleep in my soft white comforters and plush pillows.

Sat. I woke up somewhat uneasily. Threw on a dress and walked out the door. Ended up running to the train station, getting on the wrong platform and seeing my train pull away. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO”! I screamed, cursing the metro north. I went back down to the station, readjusted, got a cup of ice coffee and sat on a bench and called my best friend and read the NYtimes. I got on the train and arrived at my Dads an hour later than expected. It was a good thing I didn’t tell him I was coming. We went to the diner and then rented a movie that I slept for half of.

I returned to the city, Dad walked me to the station. When I make my train I love train stations and the act of waving as a train slowly pulls away. Unfortunately that day I left my handkerchief at home.

I got home and changed for dinner with three of my favorite people in the whole world. My girl Friday and two of my most darling best friends. We will call them the Darlings….like in Peter Pan only imagine two of the most fashionable, and fun gay guys that you have ever met. We met at my favorite restaurant in the west village that reminds me home. The food is from central Italy, Bologna in fact. The wine is from central Italy and the owner is imported as well. I met my tres chic trio on the corner. I am always meeting people on corners. No comments please. This time was due to the simple fact that I gave the Darlings the wrong address. One we all were together we enjoyed a fantastic sampling of cheese, grilled vegetables, pasta, chicken, scallops and of course wine. We walked back to the subway highly content with the culinary experience we just had. Kisses and the boys were off. How lucky I am to have them. They keep me grounded, fabulous, positive and most importantly happy.
Friday and I got some ice cream and decided to walk around Washington Square Park. Sat. night are interesting nights in the city. They are no longer going out nights in New York. They are meant to be spent at home, or at a casual dinner with friends. The reason being is that Sat. nights the city is flooded with outsiders using the city as an excuse to let go of all their inhibitions. We watched.
We decided to grab a drink. I called another good friend, Fergus. Everybody knows Fergus. He was at a bar downtown. We went down and sat had a few more drinks and laughed watched as the parade of people went by.
Friday and I left, grabbed some greasy burgers and fries and got on the subway going all the way north, home. One subway we plugged ourselves into my ipod and jammed out to U2, Fall out boy and other random, high pumping music. Everyone else was asleep on the train.
We crashed. Put on the TV and fell asleep.
Sunday I did not want to wake up. I finally got out of bed. I decided to go for a walk and get some exercise. It took about three hours for me to motivate myself out of the house. I listened to U2, fall out boy and other random high pumping music to work out to. I came back, showered and went downtown.
I got a frozen pomegranate margarita across the street before heading over to Lincoln center. I got my ticket from Friday, who works at the ballet. I sat 11 rows back in the center and watched some of the most talented ballet dancers in the world perform. I am awestruck every time. I sat next to a little girl and her mother who obviously were regulars at the ballet.
“What a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon”. She said.
I couldn’t agree more.

Friday and I left, and grabbed some coffee down the street.
“I could not get up this morning” She said.
“Yeah me either’.
We sat and drank our coffee out of our coffee bowls.

Kiss Kiss goodbye and I went up and she went east. I stopped at the Gourmet Garage uptown. A store I discovered while dating an upper west side piece di gourmet garbage. But hey, there is something good from every experience. This one included pasta, fresh hummas and fresh fruit. I got back to my house. Rearranged my furniture, and had a mini dinner party with my good friend Dre and my neighbor party girl who stopped to have a mini dinner with us. The pasta made up for the chaos and clutter of my studio apartment in duress. By the end of the evening, I had had a wonderful meal, clean dishes and a new set up in my pad.

Dinner, a pub, conversation, ice cream, long walks, the ballet, coffee coffee coffee, wine wine wine home made pasta in a newly rearranged home and there you have the ingredients of a fabulous little weekend. Compliments of my incredible friends, a few Italians and lovely city of New York.

Cheers,

Lucky