Last night while at work my celly rang. It was a friend of mine who wanted to catch a late dinner down at Balthazar. Knowing that he was the type of guy to pick up a check (he is Southern...) I agreed. After all, back when was I was just a sprout (read: 22) and new to the wonder of New York City I used to always amuse myself after a late-night quitting time. There's a reason bars are open until 4:00 AM.
At 11:00 PM Balthazar was jumping. My friend was at the bar and to my right was Jake Gyllenhaal with a table of friends. He is ridiculously hot in person. I tried to be sly but I'm pretty sure he caught me gawking. Oh well, don't leave the house if you're a hot actor who doesn't want to be stared at. My friend and I got a table in a corner. I had a salad, he had the duck and all was right in the world. Then the dessert menu came out and I had to have my way with the sorbets while he had some blueberry cake thing.
We walked all the way from Spring Street to my bunker on 20th. By then it was almost 2:30 AM and my back was killing me. Needless to say I slept in until about 11:00 AM, thus smooshing my plans for a run.
Tomorrow my friend Colleen and I are moving a mattress from Cobble Hill to my apartment. I am convinced it will turn out like an episode of Ab Fab. Stay tuned.
