For absolutely no reason at all, some friends and I decided to meet for drinks and catch up. This includes “Celine,” Other Cheryl, S, and “Scarlett.” They don’t really want to be identified. I have no idea why.
Anyway, we met at Wine and Roses (286 Columbus between 73rd and 74th). Buttery chardonnay was ordered as well as adorable little food bits. It’s a small and cozy spot, and it was full of groups of women like us or gag-worthy couples on dates. We watched one couple get to second base mere inches away from us.
It turns out we had some things to celebrate: a surprise pregnancy (not me), a new baby (not me), a fabulous new dream job (also not me), and the ability to fit into old skinny jeans (definitely not me). Otherwise the conversation had no discernible theme and proceeded as so:
- Whether or not Uniqlo is a good store (I vote yes)
- Other Cheryl gave us all fabulous journals (Ecosystem) and I got my signature hot pink. Win.
- Whether I can walk in my new Elizabeth and James shoes. (No. This pair has really given me a run for my money)
- How crappy the hills in the NYC Marathon are (I’m running it this year)
- Madonna’s lawyer’s kid used to go to the same preschool as Celine’s kids
- Should Wall Street be regulated by the government? (I changed the subject and noted how delicious the guacamole was)
- Debating whether the suave looking gentleman behind us was gay or not. (Other Cheryl is newly single and keeping an eye out)
A mere $50 and two hours later, I was satiated by wine, small morsels of food, and laughter. And had a firm conviction that “Harlow” is not a good baby name.