brooklyn gal for a while

the makings of a wonderful night

The plan was to check out some openings in Chelsea with some acquaintances then head to Blue Ribbon in Soho for a date. I got decked out artsy-chic, heels and all, and headed west once above ground on 25th st. The galleries had mostly weird art, as they usually do. Its interesting how (in my humble opinion) the uglier the art, or harder to understand, the stronger the drink at the opening, and vice versa (range from vodka shots to budweiser).
At Roebling hall gallery they were serving wine sorbet (surprisingly pleasant to the palate in a mobbed gallery). So here I am trying to take in the photography without spilling my cup of sorbet or falling on any art or people. Seen and be seen kind a thing. And then I turn and who am I litterally rubbing elbows with? None other than the designer of the very heels I am wearing, Issac Mizrahi! I played it cool, and got out of there as fast as my dogs could take me (less anyone noticed my shoes were from Target).
After a few more galleries, I bowed out a little early and headed down to find the restaurant. The date had said on Prince St. "the main section" of Prince St. He said he'd call when he got there and give me the address.* I called 411 to get the number, but was given their fax number.** I tried to text google the name of the restaurant, but it wouldnt go through. *** Finally, someone said the corner of Sullivan and Prince. By then, I had been walking up and down Prince for 30 min. Needless to say my feet hurt, so I sat on a bench and waited for the clock to strike 9, the official date time. At 9:17 I called AH (my gal Friday) and asked what the ettiquette was on lateness for first dates. She said 20 min. Still, **** Finally, the dude shows up. And we walk to Blue Ribbon (NOT on Prince St, mind you) and he says there might be a wait (we didnt even go IN the restaurant) so he wants to go to ACME instead (for non-NYers, a bit of a hike). So we start walking and talking. When we round Houston and B'way, roughly 12 minutes into the date, I feel a pat on my arm and the "date" says "So, I think I 'm going to take off."
Jackass. What a waste of foot pain.


*I should have taken this as a sign.
** I should have taken this as a sign.
*** I should have taken this as a sign.
**** I should have taken this as a sign.

posted by gordian knot @ Thursday, January 12, 2006