My dad has been in town the last few days, and I’ve been more places and eaten more meals in this time than I have in a while. It’s not that I let myself starve or fester in the apartment, but there are nights when I just eat cereal and read myself to sleep. O, ye glamorous New York life!
My dad tried a lot of new things whilst in the city, and I had a great time with him. We ate at Lombardi’s not once, but TWICE together. With two visits this week and one last weekend with Jonathan, I think it’s safe to say I don’t need to eat coal oven pizza for a few months. My dad and I also had waffles at Diner 24 twice.
We waited for an hour in the cold for an improv comedy show at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater, and then endured standing room only accommodations. (I was lucky - I’m somewhat of a contortionist and got to sit on the stage). We saw Freedomland and discussed it over lasagna and skewers of steak and chicken. I suspect it made national news - my dad, the pickiest eater in America, pickier than me, dined in an Italian restaurant. We schlepped over to the Target in Brooklyn so I could get a Luella Bartley skirt with cowboy boots. We = me and a devoutly Southern man who says “L train” in more than two syllables.
Daddy, you did good.
