Rob and I went out on Saturday night with John. We had dinner at Bar Blanc, which would have been a better experience if their air conditioning had been working. The food was good, service was solid, but Rob kept blotting his forehead with a napkin each time a restaurant employee walked by. The "free wine or death" rays he was sending were practically visible. Our server ignored them.
We then walked to the Gramercy Park Hotel for drinks on the roof. Rob and I each had three glasses of champagne and John had two watermelon martini-things, his drinking speed hindered by numerous attempts to hit on the cocktail waitress. She told us she was a recent graduate who was looking for a place to live. I could just see John's brain working and I was really proud of him when he opted not to invite her to stay with him for a while. Nevertheless, in a smooth move that may have compensated for the fact that he was basically drinking Juicy-Juice, he did offer to hook her up with his real estate agent. She took his card.
When I woke up Sunday morning (and it was barely still morning), I vowed not to drink that night. It didn't sound like a difficult plan, as there was nothing I wanted to do less. But as I finished making dinner, Rob opened a bottle of red wine and I decided that my new vow was not to drink champagne that night. I've found it's best to be flexible with one's goals.
Jack is TWO!
3 years ago