Yesterday, my conference ended mid-afternoon and I had a couple of hours to kill (read: work) before my dinner plans. I headed down to the West Village, which is one of the most charming neighborhoods in NYC, and found Maison Kayser. MK is one of my favorite NYC mini-chains. An adorable little French Bistro, it was the perfect non-Starbucks option for a few hours of typing away.
All the waiters are French, the menu is traditional Parisian fare, and it has an amazing little boulanger in the front to grab something yummy for later on your way out.
I ordered a Quiche Lorraine and a Vanilla Roobios tea, and started responding to the backlog of email that had built up after being out of the office for the past three days. In between emails, I took in some good people watching and listening.
Behind me were two female friends, debating everything from refugees, to politics, to fashion. They were cursing at high volume for about two hours straight.
- “I do think there are f*ing smart people in the world, I just don’t think Bernie Sanders is one of them.”
- “I look at my neighbor with four kids and I’m like ‘What the f**k are you doing living in the West Village?!”
- “I thought this tea would taste like s**t, but it’s f**ing delicious.”
Next to me was a group of editors of some fashion rag, all polished with bright red lipstick and tight black buns. It was like a scene out of Devil Wears Prada. They were discussing their salaries and how they deserved to be making more money because they totally brought back flannel. It made me want to sell out for just a minute.
In front of me were two tech-start up guys with laptops open in front of them. They didn’t speak to each other, except to argue back and forth a bit out loud about a conversation they were clearly having with each other through email or chat on their laptops.
Then there was my waiter, who ended his shift and went to change in the bathroom and came out in drag to head out to his evening plans. Amazing.
I love this town.