Futile Horn

04.27.2003 - 9:55 pm (something about a quarter century)

We went out for Paul's birthday on Friday. We went to the same restaurant and the same bar as Andrew's birthday last year. It rained on us like it did last year. I may have even had the same dinner as last year, but only because I couldn't remember what it was that I did have, and there were only about two or three things on the menu that I'd consider eating.

After that we went to a Ukrainian bar tending by an older woman who tried to impress me by speaking Latin, but who insisted the Latin I spoke was made up gibberish. The drinks were really cheap, and no one seemed to be enforcing the recent smoking ban. Perhaps just to scandalize all the hipsters, Paul's sister waited until we were all sufficiently sloshed and then played "American Pie" on the jukebox and insisted on a sing along. I think we are officially banned from all of Manhattan south of 14th Street until further notice. In any case, I am laying low in the boroughs for a while.

I crashed at Tom's for the night, and I could almost swear we saw the bartender at the bakery in the morning/early afternoon. I planned on hanging out in the bookstore for a while, but instead I took a slow walk in the rain in Central Park. Sometimes I almost forget I like going for walks in the rain by myself.

It was finally nice out today.

Born to play the funky céilí,
Futile Horn