the day with M

M and I decide that we will do something cultural today.  Maybe even the Frick.  But we are definitely not going shopping.  I have a Groupon for a walking tour of Central Park.  They take place every two hours, every day.  I call to schedule and get a recording.  “Someone will get back to you within 48 hours.”  Now what?  We'll  do something.  Just not shopping.  We both wear sneakers prepared for a long walk.

It’s colder than I thought, and now I wish I’d worn a heavier coat.  We head up Madison, unable to resist stopping in a few stores. 

M wants to go to Central Park, thinking we might find the walking tour.  We don’t.  But we do speak to some nice tourists — a couple from London and later a group from Greece.   The park is stark and beautiful.  We even try out the camera on my new iPhone.

I'm getting cold and Barneys looks warm.  And so we stop.  We look at handbags.  We look at shoes.  We buy only cosmetics — a Terry lip balm and an award-winning concealer by Cle de Peau — it could have been worse.

On the walk home, we realize we haven't had lunch.  We think maybe frozen yogurt.  Instead, we pass an inviting French restaurant (Fig & Olive) and go in. The menu comes and when I reach for my new prescription glasses, I cannot find them.  I search everywhere.  My bag three times.  My coat pockets.  We even call Barneys.  My glasses are gone.

The two guys next to us can’t help but overhear our conversation.  By the time lunch is served, we are talking to our neighbors as if we’ve known them for years.  

M and I are finishing up lunch when one of the guys says, “Are these yours?” and holds up my glasses.  I am stunned.  M remarks, “OMG (though she says the words), it’s like you’re David Blaine!"  

Apparently my glasses had fallen out of my purse, been swept across the floor, and had landed under someone’s coat two tables over.  When the person with the coat leaves, my glasses are uncovered. 

I am so relieved.  Now I don’t have to return to Barney’s.  Now I don’t have to get a new pair of glasses.  Now I am unencumbered with the burden of a material loss. And now, the delicious fig, prosciutto and gorgonzola tartlet with arugula and scallion tastes even better.