2004-06-18 - 10:15 p.m.

Anyway, I came home just wrung out from all that activity in the heat, and the boyfriend and I ran out for dinner, to this tiny little legendary lunch counter in the neighborhood, which is supposed to serve authentic French home cooking, in a divey little storefront. Actually, it was my second choice, as I really, really wanted a lobster roll, but the wait at goddamn Mary's was an hour and a half. It was very strange, actually, kind of dirty and dingy - the veal was quite decent, and the whole bill only came to $20, but they serve the meat with yellow rice AND boiled potatoes and some mushy sweet peas, you know how the French do them. And it had some freaky retro wallpaper (retro now - originally put up in the 70's, I'd imagine) with supernaturally colored onions and beets and mustard pots, and a cracked yellow linoleum counter with random brown burn marks from a hot pot. I was kind of disappointed, actually. But maybe that was just because I was pissed about the lobster roll.

And today I saw a woman, a stereotypical NY tough chick, usually played in movies by Mar1s@ T0mei, jump out of her SUV in the middle of an intersection and yell at a man on the sidewalk who apparently touched her car while crossing in front of her. "HEY! WHAT THE FUCK? DON'T TOUCH MY FUCKIN CAH! THIS IS MY GODDAMN CAR - DON'T YOU TOUCH IT!" She scared me a little, to tell the truth. A few steps past, a doorman who had witnessed the whole thing said something to a man he took for the car-toucher. The man, wrongly accused, spun around, tie and suit tails flying, and said, "I didn't fucking touch it. It wasn't me, fuck you."

But the funniest one was yesterday. We were standing outside the building, smoking, and a big, handsome black man in shirtsleeves and tie, was stopped in the street, hanging his head out the window of his luxury truck. He was having an argument with a guy on the street corner, about what we didn't know, and he finally pulled his head back in his car, window still down, and started FUMING. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears, and he was stopped in traffic right in front of us. He sees us looking and starts ranting at us. "That n----r crazy! Don't let him get it twisted, be fooled by this ride and this tie. I'm from Gun H1ll - never run, never WILL! Straight up, I will FUCK HIS ASS UP" We were laughing, and my coworker yelled back, "alright, gangstah!", making fun of him, unoffensively, as he, too is a big handsome black man from the badlands. I tell you, people are pissed off all over this city. It's crazy heat.

Not me, though. I'm feeling much better today, validated, and set up some meetings about new positions for next week.I'm letting it all go. And I'm inside, in my pajamas, in the air conditioning.

Tomorrow night is a little reunion of sorts, of some of my high school friends. So I better get out in the morning to some non-snooty shoe store and get me some new kicks.

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