I was alone, the only guest at a party that would mean the most only to those that were invited- my birthday.
I treated myself to a lunch I couldn't afford whilst, in honour of the location, I sipped on Sophia's family wine paying more per glass than I would normally pay for a bottle. It was worth it.
I'd made as much of an effort as I could to look respectable but looking around the few fellow diners who'd made it this far at lunch I had to wonder what they thought my gambit was- Some sort of musician, eccentric writer or just someone who had saved up enough money to treat himself to an upmarket meal. The roles of my fellow diners seemed to be played by a couple on a high-end luncheon date-I hope he or she was worth it; some ladies-who-lunch while their husbands work themselves to death floors below & a group of French businessmen slicing up steaks & signing contracts over coffee.
There are times, rare though they might be, when loneliness is the best company. At least I didn't have to worry about conversation.
The morning had been counted out in chord formations & cups of tea. Before leaving I dragged my tripod & old Nikon camera out into the hallway & documented this my 34th year.
Later, with red stained lips & a wine stained brain I would wander aimlessly toward the park I'd seen from one high & practice my harmonica until it was time to meet Dave. We would eat at a street level eatery with street level prices, spilling out onto the street on makeshift chairs & sip highballs. We would be in the company of his lovely wife & her equally lovely friend who I met for the first & only time exactly a year ago. A day of synchronicity & diversity which is exactly what you expect from this city.
It was a good day indeed.
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