Reunited and it feels so good........

I got him. I went to JFK in horrific (that is really the only way to describe it) 4th of July NYC traffic, and miraculously I rolled into the airport as my phone rang - he had landed and wanted to know where to meet me. And so our established habit of finding each other in the right place at the right time continues............

We headed straight into the city and had a wonderful, lengthy, romantic dinner eating all sorts of interesting, unique, never gonna get another chance to try this foods at Bar Bouloud across from Lincoln Center. We reluctantly left after two hours, only because we were exhausted (and, well, horny) and headed back towards the hotel. It was a perfect night. As we wandered along the street, arms wrapped around each other, our steps in unison, a homeless guy shouted out "Hey. Is that Osama Bin Laden?"

New York. You gotta love it.

The next morning we were up early, and as we watched the traffic situation become increasingly dire on the news, we realized that we needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

But not without breakfast.

We went to Sarabeth's - one of my favorite breakfast places and the only place on the planet where I would ever order an omelet. They make the best omelets ever as far as I am concerned. I don't know exactly how they do it - I think it involves using two pans and some steam heat - but the omelets come out sealed all the way around, perfectly cooked, with No Brown Crispy Egg. It's a damned miracle, and a pleasure to behold. And the entire dish is so light and so yummy with the perfect proportion of meat and cheese and egg..........I could talk about them all day.

But i won't.

So we got in the car, got in the traffic, and got ourselves home.....eventually. I made an appointment to get my hair trimmed that night and when I went in, the stylist was appalled.

"Um, so what's up with the color?"

"Uh.......it's gray."

"Yes, yes, I see that. What are you going to do with it?"

"Um........nothing?"

Wrong answer, stupid.

So 2 hours later I was released from the salon with a glamorous new do, a lot less gray, and a determination to not wash my hair for the rest of the week. It cost a shit-ton to get it looking like this, and man - I'm not fucking with it.

And conveniently, we were heading out to dinner in 20 minutes - so I got to take my new hair out on the town.

We met in Stonington Borough, at the Water Street Cafe. There were, eventually, 13 of us - all friends from my early teens and their spouses. Most were meeting Sami for the first time. And I am sure that at the end of the night they were all shaking their heads and saying "How does he put UP with that shit?" I was ON FIRE. I had my favorite cocktail: the Dark and Stormy. I had an amazing meal. EVERYONE had an amazing meal. We sat around an old wooden table, elbow to elbow, standing up to switch places, greeting everyone with a hug and a kiss. Telling stories, laughing, seeing more friends from high school that we had lost touch with. There was a lot of waving and smiling and pointing and saying "HEY I know you !" and eventually we went to another bar to keep on keeping on. My girlfriend was in search of some special, delicious frozen drink that she could only get at a particular bar. It wouldn't be summer, she declared, unless we went and got one of those drinks. So we get there, and she gets up to the bar, and she orders.................

a fucking mudslide. A frozen mudslide.

I wish I had that innocence. I wish that a mudslide did it for me. God, my life would be so much easier. But then I saw that they had a Pusser's Painkiller and I was all "Um, yeah - ONE OF THOSE PLEASE."

So I was now two drinks in, and wasted.

Pathetic.

Sad.

Depressing.

Louder than usual.

But Cheap.

And as an added bonus - I WAS STILL DRUNK THIS MORNING. I got more mileage out of two rum drinks then I have ever gotten out of an entire bottle of wine. But I have to say that I am pretty sure that bartender put extra rum in my Painkiller. I am totally going back there - if they'll let me in.