Celeb Spots & Moustachioed Men

Unfortunately there’s been little time for blogging recently. Work has been pure craziness since I started on a new account about a month ago and last week I clocked up 63hours at the office. Whimper!! I’m so tired when I get home I can barely think straight, nevermind post on the blog. My brain is so scrambled I’m only capable of collapsing in a heap on the sofa in front of a CSI rerun.

This weekend I was planning to spend another 4 or 5 hours on Saturday finishing a few bits and pieces off, but that was before I stepped out of my apartment at 9.30am to walk down to yoga class and was greeted with the most phenomenally gorgeous day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the temperature was a pleasant 80-odd degrees and the humidity was low with a refreshing breeze and I thought, “Work??? Today? Are you kidding me? Fuck that for a game of soldiers.”

Work could wait…at least until Sunday.

Instead I met Francesca for a late lunch and we had a lovely afternoon pottering around the West Village and Chelsea before meeting Jacqui for dinner. We even had a celeb spot when Francesca stepped out a little too far into the street whilst waiting to cross Seventh Avenue south and didn’t see the very tall and rather scrumptiously distinguished grey haired man bearing down on us on rollerblades. I pulled her back to avoid her being squashed and the man beamed at us as he whizzed by clutching a hockey stick. It was Tim Robbins. Tim Robbins!! Francesca was almost squashed by Tim Robbins. I'm a fan. I was THRILLED. I looked for Susan Sarandon to come hurtling around the corner after him, but she was nowhere to be seen. I’m guessing roller-hockey is not Susan’s thing.

After our near miss with Tim we walked down to Employees Only bar on Hudson for a restorative Kir Royale to aid our recovery. I’m rather partial to Employees Only, although not so partial to the mob scene it becomes each weekend. They have fabulous drinks though – albeit for $12 – and cute moustachioed bartenders. The “ironic ‘stache” has been big among New York’s hipper men folk for some years now. At the Blonde Redhead gig at McCarron pool last week you couldn’t have thrown a rock without hitting at least 6men sporting 1970s porn star style facial hair. I've never dated a man with a 'stache, but I'm kind of liking the look. At EO there's one cutie who waxes the ends of his lustrous specimen, giving him the air of a silent movie villain. He seems like a lovely man, I'm quite smitten - GBF Miles feels I have an unhealthy obsession with men in the hospitality industry - and he certainly mixes a divine Pisco Sour - something I've been drinking a lot of in the last few months, in practice for my trip to Chile with Melissa and Francesca in November - but I do worry that maybe he spends his weekends tying women to railroad tracks :-)