I was walking up my block on the Upper West Side and all the restaurants had tables and chairs outside. The places were packed with diners enjoying food, wine and the weather. It was a glorious feeling just to see them. I had great music on my headphones and I was carrying grocery bags that felt weightless, I felt that good. Sure my gums were throbbing from the pain of surgery this morning, but I didn't care. It was spring and people were dining outside and I was alive.
For some reason (it is the headphones, I am convinced) I felt like all the diners were looking at this glorious me being so alive and they ogled me. On Amsterdam and 80th, I felt like this:
But in reality, the diners didn't notice me at all and I was just some middle-aged guy carrying plastic bags while they ate pasta and sipped Chianti. No matter, I felt great.
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