So, I was having lunch with Frederico–you all know Frederico–the other day over a delightful dinner at Citronelle (I had a tuna tartare sparkling with white truffles–summery and light but a bit dry, I have to say), and he’s droning on and on–admit it, you know how he can drone–about this Internet chatting and blogging and something something with that guy and that thing.

Of course, I’m half-blind from all the gin I’d absorbed so I only caught half of what he said…or maybe it was a third–no matter, it’s important to know that I was at Citronelle, and you weren’t–but I perked up when he mentioned that I should start one of these blog things since I’m so clever, witty, and having just bought an iPhone without much to do with it–when I interrupted him: “And pretty…you left out ‘pretty’. And I have these great shoes–”

“You interrupted me.” He angrily snapped.

“Oh you!” I responded pertly if not also a little groggily, flicking a stray piece of white truffle at his face. It stuck. “You like it.”

Frederico quickly wiped his face remembering to use his napkin–he has such good manners. “It is never any use talking to you–you are incapable of listening to anything I have to say and if you ever manage to respond you act like a child!” He fussed, collecting his beautiful LV man clutch I’d never admit to appreciating–it is a clutch after all and rather girly if you ask me. “I’ll not sit here any longer and tolerate…” he paused to lean towards to hiss “…your antics.”

“There’s too many ‘s”s in your speech, ” I slur.

So he storms out without so much leaving a tip, allowing me the silence to sit and stewing and stir the watery remnants of my well-prepared Tanqueray No. 10 and tonic, “You know,” I thought aloud blurrily, yet somehow with the focus and clarity reserved for autistic children playing with their own feces, “You know,” I thought aloud again giggling at a child playing with his own feces, “I do have a lot to say and there’s a whole world of people to interrupt and flick little pieces of truffle at…why not start one of these bloggie things I’ve been hearing so much about!”

So, here I am…anew with purpose and drive, and most importantly of all an iPhone that you, the reader either by being too simple or too poor or mixture of both, do not own, but just the same, here’s the deal: I’ll drink incessantly and type single-fingeredly all my beautifully brain-crafted thoughts and delicately-felt feelings, and you’ll read it hungrily like the homeless man who later discovered the rest of my tuna tartare in the Latham Hotel’s dumpster. I trust he found that it was a little dry just as I did.

You owe me $175, Frederico. Asshole.

When in DC, do visit Citronelle…it’s absolutely delightful! 


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July 8, 2007

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