Sunday, June 05, 2005

A Family Affair

My mother was in town this weekend and boy was that a tiring visit. She didn't give me much notice of her visit so I had to scramble to try to find things for us to do... For some reason, I was stumped when it came time to figure out what to do with her. My mom is pretty cool and I was thinking that we could do something low key like go to a bar and then to dinner. But then I thought about this and realized just how weird it would be to go and hang in a bar with my mom. Plus, there's the prospect of having random men come up to us, and then I would probably have to suffer the humiliation of having them hit on my mom... and not me.

So, instead, I bought theater tickets and made reservations at a restaurant that was a few blocks away from Lincoln Center. As an aside, can someone please tell me why there are no decent restaurants near Lincoln Center? I swear, that area is a gastronomic wasteland. We could have eaten in Hell's Kitchen, but I can't force my mom to run all around the west side of manhattan so that we can make it to the theater on time! So, we ended up going to Compass which was ok, nice decor, good service, but a bit pricey for the quality of the food. We got to the restaurant at around 6:30 and were promptly seated. I looked around the almost empty seating area and noted that this was definitely the pre-theater crowd and that I was a good 40 years younger than the average diner there. My mom and I also looked out of place because we are neither white not obscenely wealthy. But really, it was the high concentration of old people that kinda freaked me out. Why it did, I am not sure. All I know is that I am glad that these old people did not smell of nursing home.

A Light in the Piazza (which is nominated for a Tony for best musical) was just ok and I guess my mom must have thought so too because she nodded off during the first act/song and I had to nudge her repeatedly b/c she snores almost as loudly as Manolo. After it was over, we made our way through the crowd (again, average age of about 70), and back to my mom's hotel. She guilted me into going back to her hotel even though I just wanted to go back to my messy apartment and crawl into my own bed.

The next morning, her cell phone rang at 7:30 in the morning and we were up and about by 9:00 am. We checked out an apartment in Brooklyn (not too far from KenTak3's new home) that was holding an open house. Nice neighborhood, scary building. Nice view of the Manhattan skyline--Williamsburg Bridge, Empire State Building and Chrysler Building, but I just couldn't get over the smells that lingered in the hallway and elevator. So, I guess I'll have to keep searching. We stopped at Habana Outpost for some grilled corn on the cob before heading back to the city to meet up with some of my mom's friends.

We spent the rest of the day shopping. People say that I am an enabler when it comes to shopping. I now know where I got it from. My mom managed to talk me into buying a trench coat at the Prada store. WTF?? I wasn't even planning on buying anything. She was the one that wanted to go in there b/c her friend's sister's daughter works there and we could use her 30% employee discount. So, I bought a really great coat for 30% off retail. However, 30% off of fucking expensive is still expensive. I was in the market for a new laptop, but I guess that I will have to make do with my Dell piece of crap for a few more months. Damn. My mom is really good. What she said to me pushed me over the top:

Her: [Evil Twin #2], why don't you just buy it?

Me: Because it's too expensive!!

Her: But it looks so nice on you. You work so hard, don't you deserve to treat yourself?

Me: [in my head] Crap, she's right. I am always at work.

Her: Just buy it.

Me: Alright, I'll take it.

Man, this is the first time that I have had buyer's remorse instead of happy shopper's feeling. But, it was a final sale and now I am the reluctant owner of a brand spanking new coat that I cannot wear because now it is about a million degrees outside and it is too hot to wear it. Thanks, mom.

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