It's been less than a week and my nail polish is already chipped all over the place. I'm irritated because I have a date. Normally I wouldn't necessarily care if my nail polish is chipped for a date (because chipped nail polish is kind of how I roll and I personally think my cavalier attitude is endearing), but this date is special. Not because of the person taking me on the date (although that person is just lovely), no no. It's because of where I'm going on the date.Where, you might ask, is such a special place that I give a rats ass how my nail polish looks?
The place makes me giddy when I think about it, because it's the one place that I've always wanted desperately to be taken. I couldn't afford the place even if I was working. The history of the place is something I've known for a long time, inspired by old movies and my Midwestern adolescent dreams of living in fantastic New York City. I didn't even have to ask for the place, it was just suggested in a sort of offhand manor by someone who's trying to impress me.
Tomorrow evening, dressed to the nines, heels and all, I will be stepping off an elevator onto the sixty-fifth floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza. And a few minutes after that I'll be sipping fancy cocktails in the Rainbow Room.
Holy crap I'm going on a date to the Rainbow Room!
I consider myself impressed.
3 comments:
And how was it?? The internet needs closure.
Now now, Timmy. Miss A doesn't kiss and tell. That's for my OTHER blog. wink wink.
Your other blog is a food blog? I don't think I have the password to it.
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