As I headed down 14th Street in D.C. to pick-up breakfast at the local Cosi, I was reminded again that in my tiny single parent household there are no traditional roles. By defacto, I am both the hunter and gathered.
It was still early and the DC streets were just starting to wake. There were clusters of homeless men loitering on street corners. “Can you spare some money pretty lady?” Hotel workers consumed cleaning their tiny patch of sidewalk. Young workers with Starbucks cups in hand, who with their J Crew looks, I pegged as working for a lobbyist or a Congressional aide. But, I’m from New York, so I assume everyone in D.C. works on The Hill.
Then came me: the gatherer-turned-hunter. Out early in search of food as my tribe of one waited back at the hotel.
I just finished reading Alec Baldwin’s diatribe in New York Magazine, where he attempts to justify punching photographers and getting Shia LeBeouf fired from the play Orphans.
I’m not among those haters who loathe the mere existence of Alec Baldwin. But, then again, I’m not gay. I always enjoyed his WNYC podcast “Here’s The Thing” and loved his recent performance as cheating spouse in Blue Jasmine.
Unless you relish having your romantic life on display and analyzed, don’t let your coffee addiction convince you to meet a first date at Starbucks. Crowded and drafty, it’s the adult equivalent of the high school cafeteria. A clean-shaven man and a lipstick wearing woman will be immediately pegged as a source of entertainment for those office-less freelancers and “writers” pretending to work on their laptops.