Okay, so maybe it was the fact that I had had two martinis last night, and my companion had also had two martinis …
but when we emerged from the Film Center Cafe and began walking down 9th Avenue, I saw something across the street, which struck me as rather amusing, and a perfect example of New York. 9th Avenue is crammed with shops and restaurants, little holes in the wall, bars next to health food stores next to hardware stores next to Italian restaurants.
I saw a sign that said “PSYCHIC”. Right up beside it was a sign that said “ENTERING BURRITOVILLE”.
I pointed it out. “That’s pretty funny. It’s so New York, isn’t it? Psychics and burrittos.”
However, then the other level of humor dawned on the both of us …
It read, when put all together: PSYCHIC ENTERING BURRITOVILLE.
As though it were some fast-breaking headline. “This just in! Psychic entering burritoville! Extra, extra – read all about it.”
Which then morphed into a couple of riotous re-enactments of a psychic entering Burritoville, with great fanfare.
“The Tarot cards said I need a taco.”
“I have read the meaning of the stars, and the meaning of the stars is that I am starving for a beef burrito.”
We could not stop with elaborations on this theme. It kind of went on for 25 more minutes, truth be told.
Love martinis. Dirty martinis. All the way.
I don’t think I love dirty martinis, considering the last (and first) time I drank them, I ended up telling my children the facts of life. They thought it was a great idea to sabotage their Mom with difficult questions when she was three sheets to the wind. So not fair.
Just makes me grateful I know where the only two decent Mexican places in this nowhere town are. No psychics that I know of, though. ;-)
I love a very dirty Bombay Sapphire gin martini with 3 blue cheese olives..one of life’s grand pleasures!!!
I’ve been drinking vodka mixed about 50/50 with the liquid from green olives, which approximates a dirty martini but really isn’t one.
I’m so conservative that I don’t consider anything but gin and dry vermouth at about 3-1/2 to 1 to be properly called a martini.
Well, yes, triticale, vodka martinis aren’t really martinis. And here I thought that I was pedantic? Regardless of terminology, however, I very much prefer vodka to gin in general, and in this context especially.
” very dirty Bombay Sapphire gin martini with 3 blue cheese olives.”
My mouth is watering.