Spicy

Last night cute architect boy ("cab") and I went out to a kosher Indian vegetarian restaurant, Pongal in "Curry Hill." My suggestion had originally been Vatan, also Indian vegetarian. I've been to Vatan twice and it's a really cool experience. Because it's so cool, you need a reservation, as cab and I found out...hence, the move to Pongal. The food was really delicious and reminded me of my yoga teacher training days. About once a month for nine months we would meet for these (very) long training weekends. Every Saturday night we would all have dinner together in the yoga studio. Usually we ordered from Zen Palate, but, on occasion, we would order Indian vegetarian as a special treat. We would get these huge crepes stuffed with potatoes and onions and then there were all these special dipping sauces and soups. Last night that's exactly what we had and it made me feel like chanting "Sat Nam" aloud right there at the table--especially when we found ourselves seated next to a group of young Sikh men in turbans. I wanted everyone to join in a special yoga prayer. Luckily for all involved, including me, I ate my dinner in bliss and kept quiet. There was one slight mishap during dinner, when I suddenly noticed the wax I had put on my braces wire was no longer there. It must have blended with the potatoes and made it's way into my stomach. A little horrifying, but I managed to keep my cool.

During dinner cab got a phone call from one of his best friends, marc—a Frenchman now living in London. He was in town for the week on business and had invited cab out for the evening (along with other friends). I was nervous thinking about the prospect of meeting a whole group of cab's friends. I mean, I'm shy...and I have braces. On the ride up to the upper west side I tried to pump myself up a little bit, telling myself to relax and convincing myself that, yes, I could do this.

So, there we were, at Cafe Frida. We walked up to a full table and I met them all, one at a time. There was, of course, marc. Next to him: monica (marc's ex-girlfriend), who I thought was french the whole time, but later learned was actually polish; then maria, who was from greece; jessie, from new zealand; and nikki, from new jersey. All I could think at that moment was, "at least I'm sitting next to the jersey girl!" They had all just sat down for dinner as we arrived. The waiter asked us if we wanted fresh guacamole. "Yes." Then he asked, "Spicy, medium, or mild?" To that, sexy french (but really polish) monica announced very fabulously with a big smile, "Spicy!"

And there it was--a shock to my entire system--a feeling that I had entered some sort of dream-like state. Could it be true? Was sexy french fabulous monica...an AWB? The restaurant was dark and I had had a glass of wine, but, yes, it was true, she had braces! It was hard for me to take my eyes off of her. She was so graceful. Her mouth did not seem awkward or tense. I wanted to say to her, "I have braces, too!" but I'm sure she already noticed. To see her eat the guacamole, I thought to myself, "here's someone who knows what I have to go through." No chips! Absolutely no chips allowed. So she delicately spooned the guacamole and ate it plain, and didn't once complain or fret that she wanted a chip like every other normal adult in the restaurant. For her entree she ordered salmon--soft and easy to eat! Yes! Yes! Yes! That's what I would have ordered, too. I noticed at one point she got something caught in her braces and very gracefully and delicately, she fished it out with her napkin. It was beautiful.

At the end of the night, after we said goodbye to everyone, cab said, "did you notice monica had braces, too?" "Yes, it was amazing," I replied. "I wanted to be her best friend, right then and there." Cab said that while I was in the bathroom, sexy french (but really polish) monica said to him, "i'm so grateful someone else has braces, too."