Again, last night, I ended up at Cafe Citron. I have been there on days other than Thursday but its never as good as Thursday at Cafe Citron. I recommend it.
I planned to meet my long-lost amigo Tip — he and I rediscovered each other through the lovely and amazing Elizabeth Johnston — at Kramerbooks, but he got lost and I called Michelle and she and I spent some time chatting. When Tip finally arrived, I wanted us to catch up not in a bookstore but rather in a smoky, dark, International, dance-infused nightclub. Cafe Citron.
The dance floor was empty but there were gorgeous people to the left, to the right, before and behind. We sat, enjoyed Mojitos, and enjoyed a Very Profound and Important Talk of a Spiritual Nature.
Since I knew that we wanted to discuss Things of Great and Grave Importance, I thought it appropriate that we do so in a sweaty nightclub rife with writing sensual young international dancers of lithe bodies. Buddha did not separate himself from the gutter, from the sick, or (I hear) from Very Cool and Trendy International Scenes, either. So neither should we.
And we didn’t. We did a Mind Share, solved all the Problems of the World, attained Inner Peace, and still had tome to dance with some Very Attractive and Healthy People Who Dance.
And, to top it off, I looked at my watch at 11:30pm, said my goodbyes, kissed some cheeks like the Eurotrash I am, and then hopped a cab and was home by midnight. I even woke up in time for the business call I had with a client of mine in London, scheduled for 7am.
What made me even happier is that Tip was still happily dancing with the Beautiful People when I left. It looks like he had a great time. As did I.
Posted Sep 06, 2002 - 08:57 AM
