"I personally was searched!" I could say. "& you know, it wasn't that bad."
But, of course, I wasn't. So whatev.
Last nite I was supposed to be working but Joe was having a terrible day so I met him at Dumont for dinner. He is having trouble with his air conditioner. It isn't nearly as delicate a situation consoling someone with a broken A/C as it is someone with a broken heart, but all the same I felt bad for him. Here it is the hottest day of the year & it seems the compressor of the A/C in question is busted & Joe is going to have to ship this giant standing (not just a window unit, mind you) 100-pound thing all the way to the air-conditioner factory in California, home to the only people licensed to perform maintenance on this specific machine under the warranty. Meanwhile Joe figured he would need to buy another air conditioner while he was waiting for the old one to be fixed, since it probably wouldn't arrive back in Brooklyn till September. The situation becomes more ridiculous when you consider how many air conditioners Joe has bought over the years. In fact one of them is cooling my apartment as we speak, & quite well, too. The more ridiculous the situation became, the more A/Cs we totted up, thinking about selling them on eBay or shipping them across the country, the more we drank & decided to keep drinking.
We ended up walking down to Moto for a slice of date cake & another bottle of wine. It turned out to be the 3rd anniversary of their opening so there were champagne toasts & teary eyes & there was a fun little band that made me feel like we were in the middle of Triplets of Belleville. Come to think of it Moto has a Triplets of Belleville feel to it all the time. Which is a great thing. I'm very happy for them that they've made it this far & I hope they have many more swingin' years.
Except I can't remember if we paid our tab. I should check on that.
