
It was a beautiful, low humidity day in NYC. To sit in a comfortable chair on a penthouse balcony and have gin and appetizers served to me was just a fine, fine way to spend a Saturday afternoon and evening. After we were suitably buzzed (did I mention the gin?), a lovely meal was served (there goes a million Weight Watchers points). There was a cool breeze and good conversation.
And don't think I didn't take the opportunity to scope out the goings-on in the surrounding rich folks' apartments. You get a really good view into those flats from a penthouse, I tell ya'. Ahh. I can't imagine living in such swell digs in the East 50's, though I certainly live in swell digs in East Harlem. Somehow, it ain't the same.
Now I know a little something about the other half and how it lives.
2 comments:
Hey Sis, you have a Park Ave. address. You are living the Lisa Douglas la vida loco.
Bro.
Dahlin' I love ya', but give me Park Avenue . . .
Well, maybe you could consider my apartment a penthouse, since I'm on the top floor. And I guess the fire escape outside my bedroom window could serve as the penthouse balcony.
Hm. Just not the same as the East 50's, somehow!
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