Beers and dinner this evening with one of my favorite people on earth. Even if she is a pinko.*
75th Street has some good stuff on tap. We had a Tripel, and I had an Imperial Stout and an 'Abbey' ale.
By the time I thought to get my camera out, we had switched to ice water for more than an hour, so the pic she grabbed of me has the wrong glass.
And the pics are noisy: me snapping her, her snapping me, me snapping the brewhouse and chalkboard, my camera cranked to ISO 1600 to avoid the flash.
But then, the bar was noisy. My ears are ringing and my voice is raw, like the aftermath of a Dead Kennedys concert.
And, as is her way, she egged me on with my writing. Including an exchange that makes me realize I've probably been writing about the wrong shit.
*For real, she's a socialist. Who has lived in socialist countries and liked it. I know, a hard chick to figure. But a great photographer and a greater friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment