The Beautiful Kind

The Beautiful Kind was down in Orlando yesterday having delusions of grandeur.

It was a clear, idyllic day, and I took a walk on Edgewater. I sat down on a bench right outside a barber shop and read my book (Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris - is “The Girl Next Door” the best story in that book or what?! I will read it out loud to whoever will indulge me.)

I chose the bench strategically, as I am fond of barber shops and the old men who patronize them. Every time one would emerge from the shop in a waft of shaving cream and aftershave, their neck clean and their hair cute as a button, I wanted to leer, “Loookin’ goood.” But I resisted.

I finally got up and joined one of them as he walked down the street - he had the cutest Southern accent. I wanted to follow him across the street, but the vintage resale shop had opened, and I wanted to score more with them than with him. And I did. It’s impossible for me to find a pair of jeans that fit, but I did get three tops and skirt (I have this fascination for polka dots lately - I have this polka dot bra and whenever I wear it I can’t keep from peeking down the front of my shirt and grinning like an idiot.)

Then I went to Jade Bistro, a sushi bar. The host, Russ, seated me in a booth, and I announced, “I’m on vacation. I’d like alcohol.” Ha, I don’t need the excuse of a vacation to drink alcohol at lunch, but he played along.

“How about a chilled pear sake?” he suggested.

“Bring it on! I mean, yes, please.”

It was light, floral, and hit the spot. I ordered sushi with names you don’t get in St. Louis, like The Manhattan, and The Mexican (each piece had a little jalapeno and spicy mayo on top like a hat.) The woman in the next booth saw my cute little spread and exclaimed, “That looks like the perfect lunch!” I assured her it was.

Russ came over to ask how the sake was, and I asked, “What should I get next - the Ruby or the Diamond?” He brought out both for me to sample, and I went with the Ruby, which was lush and fruity.

I was feeling pretty damn happy sitting there eating with my wood chopsticks when another waiter came up and presented me with a silver pair. He probably offered them because he felt like I was struggling with the wood pair, but I decided it was because he recognized me as the celebrity that I am.

When I finished Russ came over and said, “Here is dessert,” and presented me with a milky Pearl sake, which tasted like sour rice pudding. Oh god.

By the time I toddled out of there I was lit like a Japanese businessman celebrating the end of a 12-hour workday. I waved goodbye to Russ, assuring him that I was walking home.

When I got home to my friend’s house, I spent the afternoon recuperating from my hedonistic lunch, lounging about on her couch and petting her Chihuahua, who treated me like a rock star. By the time my friend got home I was ready to drink red wine with her, which we did out on the porch as we talked about boys and other lofty aspirations.

Then we walked to a vegetarian tea house and got punchy tea and cucumber sandwiches cut into triangles. I finished the meal with a strawberry cupcake that had the most perfect swirl of fat pink icing (since I was famous I wouldn’t allow the cute boy behind the counter to just grab one from the case - I had to hand pick it. )

By then it was dusk and we went to a playground and swung on the swings until we felt like throwing up.

* The one thing that made the day imperfect was that due to pursuing other earthly delights, I didn’t have an orgasm all day. I have some catching up to do.