Tra La La

Sixteen years ago, The Chef asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. The movie was "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and it's probably the antithesis of a "date" movie. Not even probably. Afterwards, The Chef apologized profusely, which I found charming. He insisted on buying me a drink to make up for all the disturbing Hubert Selby seediness. We ended up sitting outside the entrance to the Plaza (it was too crowded) and we talked and talked and talked and talked until the bar closed and they shooed us away.

It turned out to be a great date movie.