Friday, January 10, 2003

Since my husband’s laying judgement on me just because on Eric’s Spicy Thursday I stayed too late at the Battery Park City bar where our office was bidding adieu to our legal intern, then walked all the way back to the subway (a fifteen minute walk – fucking Battery Park City is like living in Queens, and besides, it’s fundamentally weird to live in a neighborhood where you have to take an escalator through the lobby of a building to get to it) before realizing I’d left my wallet, then going back, having another cigarette, and by the time I finally got to the subway for real I was exhausted and yes, a little drunk, and I fell asleep on the train, and woke up in Woodhaven, and had to backtrack, and by the time I got home dinner was cold and I hadn’t brought him anything to drink and I kind of broke the potted plant in my distress, I’m not going to write about his Wolfman Jack burgers (hamburgers with green chiles, sour cream, Monterey jack cheese and bacon), which are all he ever makes for Eric’s Spicy Thursday anymore anyway, but which are absolutely the best end-of-a-night-out on the food on the planet, and which I wolfed down greedily and loved, even if my husband was giving me the cold shoulder at the time. Except I guess I just did. 7:54:13 AM    comment []