So right now I'm in New York and spoke this afternoon at the National Stationery Show about consumer trends. (I am really bummed that I wasn't able to stay and walk through the exhibit floor--I'm pretty convinced that I could have gotten Rachel's wedding invitations taken care of!)
While I'm here, I am staying in le Parker Meridien downtown. I have to say, I love this place. The elevators are old-world style but the rooms are really modern. There are a lot of neutral colors with the occasional flash of orange or red thrown in for fun.
But beyond that, the people are so nice! I have ordered room service twice and haven't gotten that pathetic look from the room service guy silently asking for more of a tip even though 19% gratuity and a delivery charge is already included. When I called the concierge about my flight for tomorrow morning, they were really helpful and didn't act like I was wasting their time or asking a stupid question. Even the housekeeping people are nice!
I'm not sure what to do about this--NYers aren't always the most hospitable group of people. So the fact that I just got dinner and a glass of wine and a bottle of water for dinner and was charged $65 seems tolerable--go figure.
The hotel is right next to Carnegie Hall and the Russian Tea Room, which I wish I would have known about so I could have gone to a concert tonight. I'm also really close to the Fifth Avenue shops, though I got my fill of those in the cab ride on the way here. Walking into Bergdorf and feeling like the world's most unfashionable person wasn't my idea of a fun evening. So I got some really expensive room service and am calling it a night.
Off to Vegas tomorrow...
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
Table for one, please
So I did something last night that I've heard everyone should do once in their lifetime. I ate dinner by myself.
Not one of those sitting-in-the-airport-before-a-flight dinners. Not a dinner where I brought a good book. Not a meal ordered from a barstool. But a genuine, takes-reservations-restaurant-that-serves-expensive-food-and-has-white-tablecloths dinner. (I was traveling on business and quite unimpressed with the room service menu.) I ordered a glass of wine, some pasta with shrimp, and then...I sat.
For awhile I wondered what I was going to do there all by myself. If I studied people at other tables, would they think that I was staring at them? If I checked my Blackberry, I might look like one of those people who just got stood up for a date. If I fidgeted, I would look uncomfortable. And dammit, if I went to all the trouble of eating by myself I was sure not going to look uncomfortable.
And then, I realized that my mind was wandering to places that it hadn't in ages. I thought about my life. Old friends. Whether or not we should get a pet. If the bread in my basket was cold because I was eating some other table's leftovers (yep, still paranoid...). Somewhere during this riveting inner dialogue I thought I should start a blog.
I also noticed that, unbelievably, I tasted the food--really tasted it--more than any other meal I can think of in recent memory. (It was great, by the way.) When I left, I felt like I had taken time out of my day to hang out with myself. And I liked it.
I can't say I'll jump at the chance to do this again (after all, part of eating at a nice restaurant is good company) but I'm not averse to the thought. After all, there's nothing wrong with letting your inner selves have a great conversation over a good glass of wine. It sure beats paying for therapy.
Not one of those sitting-in-the-airport-before-a-flight dinners. Not a dinner where I brought a good book. Not a meal ordered from a barstool. But a genuine, takes-reservations-restaurant-that-serves-expensive-food-and-has-white-tablecloths dinner. (I was traveling on business and quite unimpressed with the room service menu.) I ordered a glass of wine, some pasta with shrimp, and then...I sat.
For awhile I wondered what I was going to do there all by myself. If I studied people at other tables, would they think that I was staring at them? If I checked my Blackberry, I might look like one of those people who just got stood up for a date. If I fidgeted, I would look uncomfortable. And dammit, if I went to all the trouble of eating by myself I was sure not going to look uncomfortable.
And then, I realized that my mind was wandering to places that it hadn't in ages. I thought about my life. Old friends. Whether or not we should get a pet. If the bread in my basket was cold because I was eating some other table's leftovers (yep, still paranoid...). Somewhere during this riveting inner dialogue I thought I should start a blog.
I also noticed that, unbelievably, I tasted the food--really tasted it--more than any other meal I can think of in recent memory. (It was great, by the way.) When I left, I felt like I had taken time out of my day to hang out with myself. And I liked it.
I can't say I'll jump at the chance to do this again (after all, part of eating at a nice restaurant is good company) but I'm not averse to the thought. After all, there's nothing wrong with letting your inner selves have a great conversation over a good glass of wine. It sure beats paying for therapy.
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