Personal Yummy #80
“Hey, Bea, how’s it going?”
I walk through the front door, ready for the Saturday day shift, and there’s Bianca—at least I think it’s her—hunching down behind the bar, attaching a fresh keg of Rolling Rock to one of the taps.
Continue reading “The Burgundy Incidents”Personal Yummy #79
About a month into my new job, I approach her with a question.
Continue reading “The Perfect Solution”Personal Yummy #77
She looks elegant in a spaghetti-strapped sequined top of bright orange…classy black slacks…and stunning, sleek, jewel-studded black Manolos.
He looks dapper in trendy glasses and a stylish button-up, with clean, crisp, blue lines…fashionable jeans…and pointed, lace-up, luxurious leather Cubans.
They are both a little under-the-weather. She said he had been coughing all night and she had to take a nap during the day because she had started to feel sick.
“You know how it suddenly just starts to come on, and you start to feel it?” she asked me.
“I sure do,” I answered. “But—don’t worry—you still look great…and I absolutely love your shoes.”
Continue reading “The Appearance Narratives: A Commitment to Shoes”Personal Yummy #76
Penelope had had bangs for most of her life. In fact, she had never considered not having them.
Continue reading “The Appearance Narratives: Bangs, or No?”Personal Yummy #75
It’s 6:46 p.m. on a Thursday evening, and I’m at the Au Bon Pain on West 55th Street, across from my office. I just enjoyed a black Angus steak and cheese sandwich on ciabatta, the sandwich here with the most calories, I think—about 840!—but that’s okay. I worked out quite hard with my trainer this morning, and tonight at eight I have a dance rehearsal at the Ailey Extension for my upcoming showcase performance, so I will definitely work off all the calories.
But not that I really worry about my calorie intake anyway…
Continue reading “A Respite and Lesson at Au Bon Pain”Personal Yummy #74
One night after a Pirates game at vibrant Three Rivers Stadium, he walks through the door in a new ball cap and a shiny, bright-yellow jacket that reaches down to his knees, with large, enticing pockets. He smiles at me, reaches into his right-hand pocket, and takes out an extremely dense, inviting roll of bills. He then holds the money up in front of my face and fans through it with his thumb, like it’s a deck of cards. I see ones, fives, tens, and even a few twenties flashing before my eyes.
“Look at the night I had!” he utters proudly, his tanned skin glowing.
Continue reading “Usher of Love”Personal Yummy #73
Sitting on my favorite bench in my favorite spot in Central Park, I look up from my book, Never Can Say Goodbye: Writers on Their Unshakable Love for New York, and there she is: a petite, blonde, curly-haired little girl running past me haphazardly and all over the place, and then backtracking and walking on, balancing on, and falling off of the dirt-covered curb lining the pathway in front of me, many branches, trees, and green leaves as her backdrop.
Continue reading “Central Park Reflections: A Trio of Originality and Abandon”Personal Yummy #71
It’s two-thirty in the morning.
Shane, Jack, Bianca, Nina (our main hostess), a crew of regulars, and I, after having had some beers and shots at The Grill, have walked over to Shane’s apartment on Darlington Road, just about a block away, to hang out and talk.
Shane lives there with his roommate, Doreen, a pretty, skinny, pale, reddish blonde, friendly, mild-mannered girl. She often comes to the bar with Shane on his days off, and they relax in one of the booths, talking and smoking, their eyes resting on each other.
Continue reading “Want Some Coffee?”
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