ramble through the bronx

Saturday, January 22, 2005

"So, where are you from?" asked the cute waitress

My friend Reuben wrote the first chunk of his PhD psychology comps yesterday (the next chunk is next Friday), and he and Doug the Jesuit and I went out last night to celebrate. As it was chilly (well, for New Yorkers it was cold; for Torontonians it was a bit nippy; for Ottawans it was a day at the beach), we took Reuben's car & got a sweet parking spot in Greenwich Village right across the street from a Washington Mutual (Reuben's and my bank). We were all set for a Night of Fun! We had Doug for the charm, and me to keep Doug company while Reuben tried to hook up, if he tried to hook up. All good. We all looked great.

We first hit The Fat Black Pussycat, a great bar with a great happy hour - all drinks half price, from 4- 8pm. It was super crowded, but eventually we managed to get drinks and a table, and had a great time chatting & drinkin' & so forth. Two of Doug's Jesuit friends dropped by, we joked with the one who's auditioning for Broadway that it would be a great to have a Jesuit in "Naked Men Singing". Blah di blah blah.

Four drinks apiece later, we're walkin' together to to Cafe Gitane for French - Moroccan food (Cafe Habana was too busy). There was a 20 minute wait, and even the bar was full up, so we ordered a bottle of wine and the super-cute waitress brings us the bottle and 3 glasses. As we're still just standin' there, in our coats, she grins and says "Hey, I know this isn't classy, but here you go" and we joke around & hey, wine is still wine. Since there's nowhere to put the bottle, she says, "Well, I may as well fill your glasses all the way up" and we joke around some more. She puts the bottle by the bar.

So we've been in this cafe for all of 10 minutes, we've been jokin' around, and I look around -- everyone in this cafe is super-cute, adorable, super-cool. I joke to Doug, "Hey, are we cute enough to be here?" There's also a super-cute waiter who looks a little like Bonny "Prince" Billy. Sigh!

OK, I'm getting to the punch line.

We finally sit at the bar with our wine, and we're chatting & laughing & joking, and the waitress comes over to talk to us.

"Where are you from?" she asks me.

"Canada..."

"Oh... 'cause I'm from Minnesota, and I was noticing a similarity..." Minnesotans and Canadians have a connection. I've noticed this before. "Also -- my ex-boyfriend went to the University of Toronto, and you reminded me of people from Toronto. You have a Toronto-style going on."

Here I am, in NoLiTa NYC, the heart of NYC trendiness, being told by a cute waitress (an actor, of course, as we found out, like all waiters), that I have Toronto style.

What a lovely compliment.

Anyway, my question for all of you is: what is the Toronto style? What separates it from New York style? I do think there definitely is one, and I like it -- whenever I'm back in Toronto I'm struck by how cute I find everyone. But to have it pointed out, so out of the blue!

Anyway, the rest of the evening was lovely... nothing super-exciting, I never got a chance to talk to the cute waiter, but we joked around for a while with the other waitress, who's from Australia and teaches drama classes here in New York. We had a good time, though Reuben didn't get anyone's number. We then walked back toward the car, stopped for tea/hot chocolate/hot water* along the way, and went home. I slept like a baby.

Toronto. I think I'll never really leave....

* Doug likes plain hot water. Is this strange?

jane 2:08 PM [+]