Sophie and I collapsed, sweaty and jetlagged, into a booth at the Capitol Diner in Inwood and ordered two coffees. The waiter, also the owner, had his ratty little notepad out but didn’t write anything down.

“You sure? Hot as all Christ out there.”

We nodded and he lumbered off behind the counter.

The guy sitting up at the front bench was eating gazpacho. Between spoonfuls, he was sniffing so loudly you could hear it from midtown.

Sophie worked on updating her résumé while I eavesdropped on the couple at the booth by the window.

He was really worked up. She was just sitting across from him, staring blankly while he bleated at her.

“You’ve got two faces!” He yelled, “You got one for me and another for everybody else when you’re walking on Dykman, talking shit!”

She stood up, waved to the owner as he came out with our coffees, and walked out onto the street.

“Don’t worry, I got the check!”, He scoffed to nobody.

Coming to America

Overheard at the Comedy Cellar

Elaine's coming now. We need an extra chair!

Six Duck Salads with Gus Van Sant

Curlie & Poo

Tiger Hood