Like A Bug
Friday. OK, up with the alarm and to breakfast and back breaking my routine by immediately loading the laundry into the wash. Good! Hup, hup! Yes! Another overcast morning, but it has officially started well. And we were coming to the point where either socks or shorts were going to run dry. Not good to have your socks or shorts run dry. Or wet, come to think of it.
The week has stumbled along. I'm afraid I've learned the ocular migraines and all their various and sundry symptoms (hard to keep track of them) are brought on primarily by alcohol. Two drinks in an evening seem to be OK, but three or (god forbid!) four and you're taking a chance the following day may become more exciting. So be it. Watch the sharp cheddar cheese and don't go overboard on the sake. Or the Guinness.
As in you're meeting the usual crew at Roy's early this afternoon for a hot dog and Guinness?
We are firm in our decision. Two Guinness maximum. Hup! When have I ever failed in my determinations??!!
Later. Three hours and the laundry is done at eleven this morning. Good for me. Still a good Boy Scout. (hup, hup) Life in the last lane, but up to speed, up to speed.
A walk, I think. The day is still overcast, but I suspect the temperature is about right. Have no idea where I might go, but then I never have an idea where I might go anymore in the mornings, yet I still get out and about.
Later still. Let's just call this afternoon and evening a science experiment. A bus and then a walk to Roy's to have a hot dog and a couple of Guinness with Mr. E and Mr. S. Well, maybe more like three. Deedle-dee-dee.
Then - it was still early, after all - a walk to Ozumo's, the upscale sake bar and sushi restaurant on Broadway at Grand that I've passed by many times, have read about in the papers, but this the first time I've been inside. We had some sake, I remember that, and left reasonably twisted not long after, the tab coming to fifty dollars apiece. They charge for their sake. And edamame. Rice wine and peas.
A visit to the Art Era Lounge across the street, trendy (but interesting, I must admit) interior with a band setting up, not yet too crowded, I remember taking this picture at the bar, a walk then through this month's first Friday Art Murmur on Telegraph checking out the Stork Club (nice hole in the wall sort of a place, they have a burlesque show I've read about that started later at nine) which I've also wanted to see, but again, have never been inside. We talked with the owner behind the bar. Talked with a bunch of people, I seem to recall, in what had become by then a number of restaurants and bars.
On then through some of the galleries on 25th, the singer in the band playing on the street not bad, the crowd in a good mood. I'm pretty sure they were in a good mood, but, you know, by then I might not have been interpreting the vibrations as well as I might on a more rational night. Still, a good outing where I managed to get separated from my companions and ended up walking home while it was still light.
Which is to say you broke your two drink limit.
Crushed it like a bug.