Today's adventures began around 10:30 a.m, after I'd had a nice phone
visit with my high school friend, Susan W in Brooklyn. We'd had a brief
visit at our class reunion last summer and did more catching up this
morning on the phone. It was not possible to meet in person here
because our day was planned and I return home tomorrow.

We took the 5th Avenue bus south to 49th Street and visited the American
Girl Store with an intervening stop at Rockefeller Center and a hoity
toity chocolate shop on the Promenade. Helluva deal there. You can buy
a piece of chocolate candy for $9.50 in a small gold-colored cardboard
box with a fake flower bouquet on top. I gotta get into that business,
Kids.

Do you know American Girl dolls? You can look it up. I bought a little
something for Rob's mom there . No, I did not buy anything for Sam.
She's a toddler (two last week), fercripesake, and doesn't need a $100
doll.

Then we went to the Odd Job store -- a bargain haunt frequented by a
prominent Upper East Side matron. Lots of cool stuff and my feet were
killing me. I managed to escape without purchasing anything. My
companion did not make out as well.

We went back to Bryant Park to make a couple small purchases from the
St. Petersburg shop there. That's St. Petersburg, Russia, not St.
Petersburg, Florida.

Well, then we hopped a bus, I think, to the Fairway Food Store. Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph!! What a place. A half block of produced arranged
outside the building. More inside. Arranged in perfect row upon row.
You want apples? They have apples. Cucumbers? Three for a buck,
imported from Florida. My dears, shopping at Fairway is not for the
faint of heart. Trust me. Rob, if you think Cub is a PITA, you have no
idea. . . .Dry-aged beef in a cooler. A 5 pound untainted-by-chemicals
boneless turkey breast for $48. Progresso soup for $1.93 per can. USDA
choice strip steaks for $7 per pound. Grilled asparagus spears. Lovely
cut cantaloupe for $2.50 for about 3/4 pint. Sainte Andre Triple Cream
Cheese (perhaps what I ate at Mimi's yesterday). They deliver. What a
deal. I bought a couple things (spiced cashews and some cheese) and
Margaret bought some stuff -- "Here taste this date; they won't shoot
you." "It's very good." "I will buy some." "Please don't -- it is
delicious and I don't want any." "Well, let's buy cherries instead."
"Sure, what the hell. Why not." The cherries are delicious, Chilean,
and next to me. I swallow. Cool place, that Fairway.

Then we went upstairs to kill some time before dinner at Ouest at
5:30--we were meeting Marcel there. We went to the cafe upstairs at
Fairway and Margaret didn't have any wine. That's different. She
ordered tea and toast and I ordered coffee and the lemon meringue tart.
Ay, caramba! The tart was tart. I faked her out on the check, we sat
and talked until she was too embarrassed to stick around any more (we
weren't getting any dirty looks, though) and then headed up to a hot
restaurant called Ouest. Oy.

Margaret had a glass of St. Emilion and she made me have a Manhattan.
Marcel joined us and had a glass of burgundy that Margaret didn't care
for. Don't ask. The crunch bread (baguette) was served with hummus.
Good stuff, Maynard. We all ordered from the Prix Fixe menu (a bargain
at $26 for appetizer, main, and dessert). Margaret had the grilled
chicken with mashed potatoes, Marcel and I ordered the hangar steak with
creamy polenta and natural jus. There was a green salad atop the
polenta -- barely dressed with a balsamic and quite yummy. Marcel opted
out of the polenta and ordered roasted fingerling potahtoes. Tres
dee-lish. Come dessert time, Margaret crapped out, I ordered the Panna
Cotta with tropical juice on top (puckered me right up, it was so tart;
the panna cotta was delightful) and Saint Marcel had the sorbet
selection minus the papaya sorbet and with another scoop of raspberry in
its place. Vanilla was the third choice. Marcel ordered a decaf
espresso. Seven-eighths of the way through it, he told the waiter it
was cold and could he have it replaced, please. I've never seen this
man, Sir. But he is cute. At $26 each, is that a bargain three course
dinner at a hoity toity place or what? I did not show our waiter,
Joseph, my tattoos. We did not ask Don Witt for his autograph.

We hailed a cab, dropped Marcel near his apartment (in case you thought
they're a live in couple, they're not) and were deposited at Margaret's
front door to the building.

The cherries are great, my dogs are barking, my back is killing me, and
my legs are sore. It was a perfect day.

Tomorrow I go home. We'll hit Zabar's in the morning. It's good to be
me and it sucks to be you.

-Barb, posting from Margaret's account

In article >, Margaret Suran >
wrote:
(snip)At $26 each, is that a bargain three course
> dinner at a hoity toity place or what? I did not show our waiter,
> Joseph, my tattoos. We did not ask Don Witt for his autograph.
>
> We hailed a cab, dropped Marcel near his apartment (in case you thought
> they're a live in couple, they're not) and were deposited at Margaret's
> front door to the building.

Errata: That'd be Don Hewitt, producer of 60 Minutes television
program; and not only are Marcel and Margaret not a live-in in couple,
they are not a couple, period. Fair enough.

Barb, posting from her own account.
--
-Barb
<www.jamlady.eboard.com>
"If you're ever in a jam, here I am."