Overheard on the Upper East Side
Stereotypes may exist for a reason, but they are blunt instruments and it’s still sort of amazing to see someone conform completely and guilelessly to one. It’s a phenomenon I like to call the cop in a donut shop. Aris and I went to J.G. Melon’s last night. They make one of the best burgers in the city, and the guys behind the bar are great, but the scene can be very UES. You know, in the bad way.
The guy next to us at the bar was wearing a pink-striped, button-up shirt with a white cardigan tied loosely around his neck like an impossibly dainty cape. I do not know his name so I’ll call him Reginald. Here is a snippet of the conversation he had with his friend, who I will call Chase:
Reginald: “Did you know that the pro at the Westchester Country Club used to be the pro at the Princeton Country Club?”
Chase: “Yeahyeahyeah!”
Outside, taxis hummed along Lexington Avenue and America went about its Thanksgiving preparations. Somewhere, a cop walked into a donut shop.
Hope you had a good day, and overcame the embarrassment of walking into a bar and seeing a guy in a pink striped shirt and white cardigan wrapped around his neck… always weird when someone just happens to be dressed exactly like you, isn’t it?
Seriously! It’s mortifying, right? Fortunately, when dinner arrived, I was able to construct an alternate outfit out of lettuce and napkins. Also fortunate: There were no rabbits at the bar.