see and be seen
December 2, 2006 § 10 Comments
This past Thursday I was on a 1:20 Acela to New York, just like old times. The brief trip was to attend a dinner. We’re Co-Executive Producers on a series that just got the green light for a dozen episodes and the network execs wanted to show some delight.
Given the past few weeks I waffled on the invite. It was a long way to go for cocktails and Dover sole, but I did the math. I had hair, and the restaurant Da Silvano was known for amazing food and fashonista customers. How could I turn down a possible Madonna sighting.
I was the first to arrive at Da Silvano. I sat at the bar and made chit chat with the voluptuous blond bartender. She was in her mid 30’s and had been a preschool teacher, a dog walker, a stylist, an art director, an interior designer, a casting agent, she didn’t have a boyfriend, which “totally sucked” and she offered that if she did have kids she would adopt a black baby boy. I suspect it was the stylist in her seeking contrast. When she’s not bartending she claimed to be an indie producer. What she didn’t say, but I am sure of, is that she’s broke and doesn’t have health insurance.
I ordered champagne by the glass knowing other would join me and while I felt obvious and alone at the bar I turned to scope out the room. We were in the smaller half of the restaurant. Tom Cruise was probably on the other side of the terra cotta wall. The wall featured a giant purple poster of a long legged pixie with legs splayed open, spiky hair and spike heels. The 2 foot type across the top read “Cancer Vixen”. Did other people see that? Was I suddenly seeing cancer in everything even restaurant decor? I turned my back to the wall.
Familiar faces arrived and it was kiss face and handshake and warm feelings all around. The attorney who had been an obstacle was a buddy. The clients who knew me from the ad biz shrieked at our involvement in programming. I smiled and drank a second glass of champagne.
We sat down for dinner; apps followed by more apps, and happy conversations. I was a one seat away from the VP of programming and somewhat central to other influential characters. It was all good.
Time flew, the panna cotte was sinful and the decaf cappuccino too hot to guzzle before catching my ride home. Three hours of the fabulous life was more than enough for me.
Since I had missed all possible plane and train connections Jonas’s babysitter, Helen and her Camry saved the day. I was picked up at the restaurant at 10p at which point I slipped into the backseat of the car, pressed my head against the pillow and wrapped myself around a fleecy blanket Helen provided. I woke up near Framingham four hours later. It was close to 2am.
I napped in and out of Friday. My sister Gail came for a visit and brought with her a book from Suzy. It was called Cancer Vixen, a true story by cartoonist Marisa Acocella Marchetto and her battle with breast cancer. Turns out she met her husband Silvano at the fabulous Da Silvano restaurant.
Surely the current confluence of coincidence is a good omen.