Our last bite of the Big Apple.

Eyes bloodshot, face smeared with mustard.  Glamorous!

Eyes bloodshot, face smeared with mustard. Glamorous!

Sunday was another grand day.  Made it down to Katz’s and their pastrami sandwich lived up to its reputation.  It was delicious and had substantial restorative powers… which were much needed after the previous evening’s bar crawl.

Then a quick tour of MoMA before heading back to Broadway for our fifth and final show of our gay-stravaganza Weekend, Billy Elliot.  And it was great…  The music was fine if ultimately forgettable, but the dancing was marvelous, the cast amazing and the story fascinating.  And, for the first time, we didn’t have to shush anybody!

I should be so good at my job...

I should be so good at my job...

After the show, back to our digs in Murray Hill for a lie-down and a shower before meeting Sue and Mark (Chris’ friends from D.C. who happened to be in town) for dinner at Bread Bar at Tabla, a sort of nouveau/locally-sourced Indian place.  Really great cocktails (I had a super-refreshing and delicious watermelon mojito), followed by a very mediocre dinner (oh well).  Then back up to Hellsea for a last round of drinks at Therapy with Mikey and Justin.  Of course, Chris and I continued on to several other boites before the night ended. At one place, we met a charming young Frenchman with a bandage on his arm.  Thinking perhaps he’d had a run-in with side-view mirror similar to my own, we inquired as to his injury.  His story beat mine: he’d been stabbed in Guatemala.  Adventurous!

I'm in love with a wonderful guy...

I'm in love with a wonderful guy...

Monday morning we got a late start, had breakfast and planned to ascend the Empire State Building…  But the line was long and our time was short, so we just walked around for a bit and had a glass of wine before heading to JFK.

All went well with our flight (incredibly, Chris and I had an empty seat between us again – and the plane was packed…).  The one little hiccup in our flight was the woman two rows ahead of us who apparently had a mild case of the crazies – at one point she was yelling to no one in particular that one day all secrets would be revealed and everyone would know the truth.  A bit later, she started shrieking at the top of her lungs.  It was super!  Don’t know what they did, but the crew managed to keep her relatively calm for the remainder of the flight and John Law was waiting at the gate at SFO to escort her off.

We got back to our apartment via taxi and were panhandled immediately upon arriving at our front door.  Welcome home…

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