This is New York

So the long weekend is finally at an end. Class tomorrow..

I think what I love most about New York weekends is Sunday brunch. It's like a ritual. And is never boring. That's the other thing about New York weekends -- you go out and encounter all the various species of strange folk that populate this crazy city.

Take this Sunday, for instance. We went to brunch around the corner from my place. It was fairly early (had woken up early-ish with the deluded belief that I would actually "get work done in the morning." Hah!). Anyway, it was past noon but before one. Which meant that the restaurant was buzzing with the over-thirty-fives and under-tens. Most self-respecting 20-somethings were probably just emerging from bed..

We got seated quickly. To the right was an older lady sitting by herself at a table, wolfing down mini muffins. As we looked around for our waiter to get coffee, we noticed this rather interesting phenomenon. Older lady takes a sip from her coffee cup and then summons a waiter. She points at the lipstick mark on the rim that she just left and asks for a new cup. He obliges and brings her a new cup. She takes a sip and then summons him back to point to her newly planted lipstick mark. And asks for a change of cup! And well...you get the picture.

Anyway, much as this was a fascinating scene to watch, I was getting impatient with our waiter. He hadn't come by to get the order yet and the two girls to our left were doing the whole "Omigod, so i totally didn't get laid last night" thing, which was very annoying to have to put up with sans caffeine.

Our waiter finally comes over and practically collapses onto a chair. He takes our order but his eyes are a little glazed over. He forgets to ask Roxanne what sort of tea she wants. About ten minutes later, still no coffee, he comes over again. "Hey guys, I'm sorry. Did I take your order already?" We exchange looks and nod. He starts to make us repeat ourselves and halfway through, goes "Oh yeah, now I remember!" and shuffles off. We never see him again.

A few minutes later, two new waiters come up, retake the orders of all the tables in our section and the maitre d takes off his blazer and starts serving us. Very very weird. And most of this happens with no coffee. Which is really the only thing that fazed me. After all, this is New York.