No Title for Last Night

Last night started out normal enough over an outdoor dinner at Southwest NY in Tribeca with two friends and ended in Paris Cafe at the South Street Seaport with one of the two friends and an investment banker, who was high on life (and maybe a few other things) and wearing one shoe with a pink flower. She likely lost one of the $150-flowery flip flops while leaving the Gate House on South End Avenue in the Financial District, but we didn't notice until we were getting out of a cab on South Street. Not to be deterred by the loss, we entered Paris Cafe right behind her as she flung the door open, pointed her shoeless toe in front her like a ballerina and twirled into the bar.