Saturday night, I had the pleasure of catching up with my good friend, fellow publicist and former TV news colleague Cyndee.
Over a few cocktails at Cyndee’s bachelorette pad in Murray Hill, she told me about schmoozing with the celebs at Fashion Week and her pleasant run-in with actor Jason Lewis (Smith from "Sex and The City") at a recent party.
Speaking of soirees, our destination for the evening was a “wifebeater” party at her friend’s swank two-bedroom apartment between Lexington and Park. From sweeping balcony views of the NYC skyline to dozens of 40-something men and women wearing wifebeater t-shirts, there was no shortage of jaw-dropping sights.
I managed to tear myself away from a plate of terra chips and guacamole so I could take in a full frontal view of the Empire State Building. Joining me were two of Cyndee’s friends, Mike and Greta. As one would expect when a group of single New Yorkers find themselves at a party with a fairly even guy-girl ratio, the conversation quickly veered from NYC’s unparalleled skyline to the perils of city dating.
Mike expressed his disdain for women who measure a man’s value by the size of his bank account, while Greta mentioned the alarming trend of husbands behaving like they’re still single. She’s considering a book with a title inspired by a line she’s heard more than once from NYC men—
“By the way, I’m married.”
I laughed heartily at this, grateful that (to my knowledge) it’s been at least ten years since I’ve been hit on by a married man.
Before heading home, Cyndee introduced me to her adorable British beau. There’s something about a guy with an accent. I’m no stranger to their charms, having dated three men of English descent. Perhaps it’s time for me to reconnect with the Anglophile in me…
Coming up…Opening The Vault to my most romantic week ever and a review of the new Julianne Moore flick “Blindness.”