No, no, no, not RETARD, its RETARD, with a French accent, like in Je suis arrivé avec 45 minutes de retard au rendez-vous. I was 45 minutes late for my noon lunch with my friend Dan at A.O.C., a great French bistro on Bleecker Street at the corner of Grove in Greenwich Village. I’m usually punctual for basically everything, but this morning getting ready to go shower I fell asleep on the couch watching People’s Court. The last thing I remember was Judge Marilyn Milian telling some guy with a bowtie that he had made a real “arroz con mango” out of things. I woke up at 11:45am to the sound of the TV remote control crashing on the floor. Of course the batteries came loose and rolled to the exact center under the couch. I fished them out with my feet, but got a weird cramp in my foot that sent me yelping and cursing as I tried to pry the batteries from between my toes. Ridiculous.
Anyway… lunch was great. Dan’s such a sweet guy (handsome too! and smart! and single! let’s go boys, who says the good ones are all taken!) and I enjoy his company thoroughly. Lots of parallels in our lives. I’m sure we’re destined to become real good friends. Dan, lunch is on me next time!
PS: Watch out for the very crusty bread at A.O.C., delicious, but it’ll do a number on the roof of your mouth if you’re not careful. You can break out of prison by filing through the cell bars with that crust. CARLOS
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