And an A24 Screening
I'm on the Amtrak back from DC. I spent 6 hours there, going to make sure that Nwakaego was set up for Mmuoonwa Mmeme. My roommate had just gotten back from Jersey and she dropped in the apartment for like two seconds before heading out to work toward a flight to Chicago. I matched her energy this weekend. The girls are on the move!
I got to the Amtrak hungry. I saw this post today of some male writer being quoted saying he writes because he hates a lot. I eat because I hate. I know I'm hungry when I start to get annoyed. I know I need to eat when I get existentially annoyed, like Notes from Underground annoyed.
On the train, I had a leftover heart of palm salad from Cafe Gitane with sweet potato I'd roasted myself. I liked the salad, but I wanted some bread, or a carb something. But I LOVE the Gitane Americano even though sometimes it makes me panic attack level caffeinated. Panic attack level caffeinated is in the same ven diagram as tipsy. I wanted to write with a little red wine on the train, but they went cash only, and I was left hungry, tipping toward existential hunger the closer I got to DC and left without any red. By the time I got to the capitol, the sound of other people's voices was annoying to me. But I refused to drown it out with music. I'm still trying to be in the practice of being audibly in the world, and when appropriate vocally.
UNION STATION
I ordered a car that was there by the time my train pulled in. I love union station. I feel in love with the east coast young, at 14, then 16, then 18 because of the ceilings. They're are all of these flowers that are meant to be imitative of cotton plants.
I got into the car. He waited by the DO NOT ENTER SIGN.
"Can I roll the window down?"
I rolled the window down, too hungry to chat, but the weather was absolutely perfect. I love fall.
I asked chatGPT for a place where I could get a dessert and a martini and write and it kept making mistakes, suggesting places that were permanently closed or not open as late as I needed.
AC HOTEL DOWNTOWN
I arrived at the hotel. I could tell that the gentleman checking in in front of me was trying to check me out, but I avoided eye contact because a) I was existentially hungry and b) I've been seeing someone I really quite like, and in the spirit of Lovergirl Fall, I am trying to see one person at a time.
The room was very nice. The lobby clean and quiet. One of the earliest notions my mother instilled in me was that I should only stay in hotels that have at least 4 stars.
I asked the concierge, as I checked in, where I could get a martini and dessert and write and he suggested Madhatter and one other place off of the top of his head and then told me to turn a couple of ways on the street to arrive at a general area.
In the elevater, the couple was talking about Madhatter and I asked if they liked it, and noted that I was looking for a place to work.
"Oh!" they said. "Not there. Don't go there."
I got to my room. Pristine. Perfect for one. I absolutely adore a nice hotel room.
But don't forget, I was so hungry!!! So I set out with my legal pads to get a martini and to write.
I headed towards a place called Residents Cafe that ChatGPT had brought up, thinking it would be like Raf's because it had "Cafe" in it's name and wonderful New York restaurants are always calling themselves "cafes" as if in a gesture of humility.
RESIDENTS CAFE
I arrived and saw a lot of drunk people outside, standing, in jeans and black tops. I turned around and went next door to
TOKYO PEARL
The waiter and I had a pretty substantive back and forth before I was seated. He thought I was asking how long the restaurant had been open in general, when I was asking how long they would be open tonight. I always have so much respect for people who speak multiple languages though, because he knows two and here I am with my meager one in spite of 4 years of French.
I ordered the 1) Ube cake and 2) some drink claiming to be a take on a French 75. They seated me in a gimmicky, swinging chair. And I was already existentially hungry, remember.
Both came out quickly. And before I tell you what I thought of the food, I remind you that my mother has told me only to stay in 4 star hotels and that New York has spoiled me because it is a restaurant city!!!!! The ube cake came with freezer burnt strawberry ice cream, and was drenched in chocolate syrup and was overall too sweet. Same for the French 75. Too sweet. Wrong glass. I've been enjoying the one at Romeo's lately, and of course the one at Balthazar is a classic and they suggest it if you ask what you should have, which is always a good sign.
I closed out pretty quickly and tipped well (you should until we pay hospitality workers what they should earn, but I could tell that the staff was surprised at the brevity of my visit.
Back to the hotel. To sleep. Amazing in a hotel. Hotel pillows!!!! Then in the morning, based on a rec from someone with phenomenal taste, I went to
LE DIPLOMATE
I adore French food. I'm reading this book on Balzac's relationship to food right now and it has the most interesting stuff on the history of restaurants. I think French Restaurants are so wonderful because the restaurant was invented in France. And it's always been about coolness and community and decadence.
And because my father took me to this one French restaurant in Downtown Wichita when I was a little girl and got me a quiche with a side salad and I thought that that was the epitomy of life itself. Le Diplomate was amazing. I almost sat outside until I heard the music. A Bach Piano Concerto and something else. Perfect classical, I love a concerto. They sat me in this little green room and I didn't understand why, until the sun started to shine in and I could turn and feel it.
My waiter, Pablo, was perfect. Attentive, but not annoyed. Honest and earnest, but not too rehearsed. Then they sat a couple right next to me and he said the same lines to me and it's sort of like when you discover that someone you've been seeing is seeing someone else. Maybe I should date multiple people until it's spokenly exclusive ah!!! I feel like I generally operate on the rule that I could meet the love of my life on any given moment. And I told Pablo that I wanted to go light because I was meeting a friend later. He suggested the egg white omelette with ratatouille in the center. He started to explain what ratatouille was, and I nodded and he said
"We've all seen the movie."
-- And what i wanted to say was no! My french teacher my freshman year had us make it in class! (and maybe this is when my love of French culture began, or no, actually I think it was simply learning the language young because of ballet --)
But all I did was nod and say that I would have the egg white omelette.
So I had an Americano (ok, got a little acidic as it cooled) and the bread basket and the egg white omelette. The bread was great, but I wish they'd give you less if you're dining as one. The egg white omelette was amazing. He'd told me that chefs cycle through the restaurant to perfect their omelette.
I can't wait until I get to the part of this Balzac book where they talk about his omelette.
I read a little and then got the check and found it so funny that I spent less than I did for freezer burnt ice cream at Tokyo Pearl (even with a generous tip, because Pablo you were amazing!!!). On the way back to the hotel, I ran into the couple from the elevator. They asked if I found a place to go and I laughed and nodded. Then, time to check out:
AC HOTEL DOWNTOWN
My mother's mother's mother used to clean hotel rooms. You always strip down the sheets, leave the towels in one pile, and tip in cash.
Then I met my friend Kiah and she brought pastries from
YELLOW
I had some sort of tomato croissant topped with feta. I ate it while we talked in the park as the sun shone and a man played the guitar and sang. It was perfect, like a movie. Kiah is one of the most brilliant people I know. She was the president of the Black Law Association at Harvard Law School. Before that she worked for Michelle Obama. Before that she was a Fulbright Scholar. Before that she was also in Wichita, Kansas. I wonder if she went to the French restaurant La Galette. She gave the leftover pastries to a disenfranchised man. An "unhoused neighbor," she said. He ate them and gave her a thumbs up.
Mmuoonwa Mmeme
In the car to Nwaka, I learned that the driver was supposed to have date night, but she needed to pick up these shoes and that the store had marked her as an online delivery so she couldn't???? BRING BACK BRICK AND MORTAR! SUPPORT SMALL BUSINESSES! I want to give my money to someone who achieves a flow state and sells something that they love doing because they love doing it and I want to look them in the eyes and say thank you.
Nwaka was in the cutest outfit when I arrived. All blue with a cowgirl hat. Yes Nwaka! I met her friend, who was originally from Japan and had two very cool tattoos. We went to the grocery store. Got things to make pies during the event. The machine at self checkout kept glitching, needing the perfect amount of weight to be on the scale to go on, which reminds me of some stuff Kiah says is happening with tech and hearings and the law.
We got our groceries and got in another car. We got back to the space and Nwaka prepared to welcome the guests and Griffin called me, wanting to see me before they want to Paris for fashion week tomorrow. I love my friends. We're all always running around. I'm on a train back, and not at Mmuoonwa Mmeme because I love my friend Sean so much, and want -- no need to reign in another year with him. To look him in his eyes and say I love you, on his birthday.
GAGE AND TOLLNER
I'm back, a week later now writing this. About last weekend. The train back to New York was an hour and a half late, the same as it was when I did the ride back from Philly three (four?) years ago with my father. I was late for the reservation, but it didn't matter because I got there in a little white dress with a sweater and the braids I did on the train and we ate one of the best meals I've had in New York. I'd try to take a piece of steak and Sean would say, "no, take this piece" and I would and it would melt in my mouth. When the vesper came with a sidecar, I knew it would be good and it was -- better than the one at The Mulberry. Then we went to my favorite bar in Manhattan, one I'd write about, but I don't think they would like being written about so I won't. Also, two weeks ago Sean and I went to an
A24 SCREENING
At a Regal in the East Village. When we checked in, no one really looked up or smiled. It was all pretty unassuming and we sat in the front row and saw other internet people, that seems to be all these events lately -- internet people -- I am internet people, you are internet people, we're all internet people! The movie was all and sad and lovey. Made me want to get married, and maybe it worked because I am flying to another state for a second (third?) date tomorrow. Two big actors did a Q&A after, but my favorite part was Sean's reaction because one of them was one of his favorites and I didn't tell him she'd be there and it was amazing. And I carried my friend Ingrid Norton's manuscript in to read during the lulls before and after and did read it while Sean got snacks. I'd stuffed a white rose into the spiral binding that a stranger had handed me on the sidewalk, when I'd been walking to meet Anderson at Le Dive earlier that day.
Life is walking around and doing stuff and eating and saying Yes! and No when it doesn't feel right. Like saying yes to deepening friendship. Saying yes when someone tells you to come visit within minutes of meeting. Saying yes when someone tells you to go to a restaurant that they love when you're in a city they used to call home.
Say yes to love. In all its forms. And throw it back, with equal gusto.
Signing off now. I need to pack!
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