Friday, June 19, 2009

fuck me shoes

i like how ami's last post implies there will be a how to of the day, every day. something tells me that's not the case.  

on a completely different note, my parents left today after spending the whole week in nyc. my dad was in town to finalize a huge business deal so we barely saw him and i had to work monday through wednesday. that left very little time for fam bonding; basically just dinners all planned by yours truly. i love having the power to just make reservations at all these restaurants that i really want to try but cannot afford. i call these parent restaurants and they account for about 90% of the restaurants in this city.  monday night we ate at perilla which is harold's (the winner of the first season of top chef) place. it was ridiculously good. tuesday night was girl's night with my mom, aunt and best friend from home at otto. simple, cheap and delicious. wednesday night was out of control phenomenal at eleven madison park. certainly NOT an everyday experience. they even had little hooks the hostess pulled out of her pocket that clipped on the edge of the table to hold your purse. god forbid your louis  touches the ground.  and last night was a low key but wonderful early dinner at scarpetta.  

we were running late after a crazy day. in case you're not from new york and you did not experience the monsoon that was yesterday let me just say i don't think i've ever seen rain that hard for that long, which of course equals no cabs. anywhere. so i traipsed down through the east village to meet my mom for breakfast at clinton st. baking company in the torrents of rain. all was well as soon as i had a cup of coffee and a plate of fluffy blueberry pancakes in front of me. and then owen wilson walked in. perfection.  after, my mom and i spent the wettest day in history at the statue of liberty. she claims she had a near death experience at the top (really the base, but it's the highest you can currently go) which equalled gale-force winds combined with a fear of heights. not a great pairing.  add slick marble and stone surfaces everywhere, grey skies and a terrible view and it was a hoot of day. needless to say we were looking forward to a comfortable plate of scarpetta's delicious spaghetti. 

racing out of the cab, trying to make sure we didn't lose our reservations, i ran into a girl who asked me if i knew where "skirpenita" was. this girl was wearing a scanty black frock, stick straight hair, platform strappy shoes and of course, the requisite blackberry in her left hand.  i probably shot her an extreme look of disdain (i'm not very good at hiding my emotions) asked "you mean scarpetta?" and pointed to the door in front of us. when i was describing the girl to my mom, who just so you know is the nicest, kindest hearted person i know who always sees the good in people, even when they are 100% evil. it takes a lot for her to be mean. anyway she gets this conspiratorial look in her eyes and asks me if i know what she and her friends call those shoes. what, hooker shoes? and she laughed and said, "no, this will probably embarrass you, but we call them (here she lowers her voice) fuck me shoes." whhhhattt??? i didn't even know my mother said the "f" word. what a great way to end the trip.  i guess she's edgier than i give her credit for.

1 comment:

  1. DAYUMMM Allison! We always new she was a baller! Morgan I'm loving all over your blog right now

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