Last Friday night, a friend invited me out to go flamenco dancing at Boom. I love the food there and I know they have really great live music occasionally (I was serenaded right out front on Spring Street by an older gentleman who sang there on Thursday nights. He wanted to court me. Serenading is a good way to start!)
Ok, back to last Friday night. I was invited out by my friend, the woman who recently started this blog to celebrate the birthday of her friend, the photographer who shot the In The Flesh Erotic Reading Series that I was a part of in August (Kevin Bacon, I’m almost there). We ended up having dinner because the band got stranded upstate. There was only one band member who made it and he was, um, entertaining my friend when I arrived. Like I really felt like I was interrupting something. Sorry, buddy, didn’t mean to cock-block!
After my wine and Agnolotti Burro e Salvia, the conversations started to “take off”. You know the deal. After the whole, what do you do/where do you work, how do you know the birthday boy, we got down to the good stuff. I admit, I missed part of it because I was scouring the bar for a sexy European but another woman at the table asked my opinion on dating – how I felt about it, did I enjoy it et al.
