The Bitter End

I got up at 7:30 ’cause someone was panting in my face and it wasn’t Gill. Fed Mordecai, then took him around the block to do his thing. Found some parking had opened up on the street, so I moved the car back on to West 16th. Gill invited me to participate in her morning workout, which I did, and it hurt. Still does. Probably means I need to do it some more, but then who’ll write the damn blog?

We finally unpacked and got the place organized, then took Mordecai to check out a new dog run, Jemmy’s Dog Run on Broadway, down by the flatiron building. Not bad, but I think he preferred Union Square.

We left the park to take Mordecai home and go find some lunch, but Gill spotted a gourmet mexican street vendor, and I knew our lunch plans had been finalized. That girl can’t pass a Mexican food truck.

In the afternoon, we went shopping for some shirts for me because the shirts I had packed in that duffle bag we picked up in Jersey were actually sitting on the ironing board at home. Got a couple t-shirts, Gill got a dress. And she looks damn good in it, too.

Picked up some edibles at Trader Joes’ (grocery shopping made fun). Walked back to the apartment and Gill made a great dinner. The apartment doesn’t have a range hood above the stove, but it does have a working fire alarm. We learned both of those things.

Checked out singer/songwriter Colin Smith at Slane Public House in the Village. Early on in his set he played two songs from Tom Wait’s Closing Time, and we knew everything would be alright.

After Smith’s set, we found our way to The Bitter End on Bleecker Street for the Monday night jam. We took some abuse from the MC for being from Toronto, but not as much abuse as the couple from California. Great players, great time. Stumbled home some time after 2 am, let Mordecai out to do his thing, crashed.