I had a good day yesterday.
I went to Brooklyn to play with Susan. One of my best activities. I can’t exactly tell you why. We really don’t do much.
We go out to lunch, either japanese or greek. It’s always a difficult decision. Greek is healthier but more expensive. Every time I eat japanese food it’s a reminder that it’s from a country that now houses the man who broke my heart but with an $8.99 three course special my pain goes on the back burner.
Then we can have a choice of mani pedi, hair cut or shopping.
Yesterday we chose the first two. I’ve told you about where I get my hair cut. The beautician, Tony, is Chinese and speaks very little english so the whole time he’s cutting my hair, Susan is screaming “long layers, long layers” at him and he seems to respond. The man is Da Vinci with a scissors.
I used to get my hair cut in the Soho Grand for $120 plus tax and tips. Tony charges $8.00 (I give him $20 cause I’m a sport) and aside from it taking 10 minutes, the presence of a shrine, dust and all, contributes to my emotional well being.
Then we got a mani pedi. I got a crazy hot pink color on my toes . Even though I smudged my fingernails on the way out (I have no patience to sit there until it’s fully dried), I love the way my toes look.
Again, I can’t tell you why these days with Susan are perfect. I just know they are.
The day finished off with my staying to go out to dinner with Sue and Al where we were fired by the waiter.
Now dining with these two is an adventure. They never order what’s on the menu.
David says he’s seen people ask the waiter to leave out the mushrooms but he’s never heard of anyone starting from scratch when they give their food request.
“Take some chopped garlic, very little oil, add some escarole, some beans and maybe a little, just a tablespoon or so, of spicy tomato sauce”
My response to him is that they are loved by every restaurant they frequent because they tip very well and are lovely to the staff.
I was proven right last night when we went to one of their regular haunts but their usual waiter was taking care of a large party so someone else helped us.
We knew there would be a problem when I asked for a separate check and the guy said no. Then my request for a vegetable instead of pasta was greeted by a “No can do”.
I knew that when he got to Allan who probably wanted a mixture of kidney beans and geraniums, with garlic of course, slaps would have occurred.
Obviously their usual waiter, I think his name was Jeffrey, felt the same as I did because that was when he started hovering around the table trying to helpfully suggest the preferences of his favorite customers until our original waiter, let’s call him Gavone, shoved his pad into Jeff’s hands and walked away saying “You obviously know what they want more than I do”.
I should note that Jeffrey saw no problem with replacing my pasta with spinach.
That was yesterday.
When I got home last night I picked up my mail. I didn’t open it until this morning.
The first was from the MTA telling me the credit card for my old person bus pass was going to expire. Since the bus has become my lifeline I immediately tried to replenish it on line. That didn’t work so I had to do it by phone.
I’m not lying, I held on for at least 30 minutes. When a woman finally came on the line she asked me to read my account number from the letter which I did. Then she asked for my name which I gave her. There was a pause and she said “That’s not the name I have”
I looked at the letter and realized that it wasn’t my card that needed replenishing it was dave’s.
“Wait a minute. That’s my husband.” The ex isn’t yet in the forefront of my mind. “He lives in Japan with his girlfriend. Let her pay for his bus pass”
The woman laughed, we spoke for a few minutes about what shits men are and just as we were about to hang up she asked the question that I’ve been getting for years, “Is he THE Dave Matthews?”.
“No” but before I could think I said what I always used to say
” Well kind of, he used to be James Brown’s bandleader and he worked on “The Concert In Central Park for Simon and Garfunkle”.
When I gave it some thought I’m ashamed to say that I still liked to brag that my husband was someone. Not a good trait of mine.
Then I opened another letter from the New York State Thruway Authority saying that I had been speeding through the E-ZPass plaza and if I did it again I would lose my E-ZPass.
It really upset me because I drive like a snail and if I did this I had no memory of it. I was worried that here was one more thing that getting older makes me not trust in myself.
Then I decided to check the date. You can imagine my delight when I found out it was Julie who was driving my car, flying at 29 mph through the toll.
I took a picture of the letter and texted it to her.
She immediately called and apologized and told me it would never happen again.
I thought that that was that until I got an email from her saying that she felt very bad about this and it was my fault, I think for having a car, and that I would have to make it up to her.
Anyway every time I look at my pretty garish pink toes it makes me happy.
I’ll send Julie a picture of them.