Every New Yorker coming to town says the same thing. “Take me to a Mexican restaurant!” Corvette, my first boyfriend (yes, that’s his name) said that with the enthusiasm of a kid walking into Disney land with the goal of meeting Mickey.
We met at La Loma in the Highland; he sauntered in swinging a Louis Vuitton overnight bag and wearing combat boots. He hadn’t changed one bit. We then spent hours telling the tales of our lives since high school. He was involved with the real story behind the movie Party Monster, lived above a fisting club and at some point, as you do, started working for Madonna. The typical NY dream.
After eating an enchilada plate smothered in green chili and dropping Corvette off at a local vinyl record store it was just enough time to have a run in the park then meet Jim from Jim’s Stuff blog for dinner. However, the report I thought I had completed for work last week came back to haunt me. No run or nice dinner with Jim. Today will be spent indoors slaving over a hot spreadsheet. The wonderful weekend of meeting and cavorting with good friends as just a memory.