After more than his share of post work drinks, Joey Little Italy was due across town meet his blind date, Laura. He was much too cheap to spring for a cab and walked, passing a sleuth of men in dark suits on Blackberry’s.  One day, he thought.  One day, he would feel that same rush.  He thought about grabbing a slice of pizza but didn’t need that carb gut.  Granted, the hotel snacks would not be cheap.  Hopefully, Laura wasn’t one of those eater types.

Joey hoped she didn’t smoke; he didn’t like the taste of cigarettes on a girl. Most of the New York gals were a bit crass for his taste (cursing and super boozy) not to mention cheap. Long term, Joey contemplated the idea of a sugar mom or someone who could, at the very least, throw down some bills.

Laura arrived ten minutes late. Upon first sight, Joey thought she was cute but her features were strong. A long pointy noise to accompany a big mane of blond curly hair; thankfully pulled into a neat bun. The dark lobby helped her looks. She shook his hand. A good thing no one felt awkward. They talked. She worked as an Associate Buyer at Barney’s. Joey liked the implications of free menswear and Anthony Men’s product, even though she explained her discount was only for her family.

Yeah, right.

Joey ordered a Johnny Walker Black and sipped it while Laura sipped on a vodka soda.  His eyes bugged out when she mummers Kettle One; that would tack on at least 3 bucks.  Ugh. LABELS!  The conversation slid to geography. True she lived uptown but always thought of herself as a downtown girl. How not cool thought Urban. Uptown. Certainly if this relationship were to work, it would be nice if she could move below 14th Street. 

When the subject came to background, Laura talked about her Irish upbringing and Joey wondered if she would ask about his lineage. Blah blah blah blah…It was 10 o’clock. Joey wasn’t one for cutting to the chase. He was tipsy from after work booze and the second Johnny Walker went down smoothly. Joey called for the bill, $75 for drinks and no snacks.  What the F?  Joey cursed his decision to meet at a hotel bar where tourists were constantly ripped off.

At least he would try to work something. Would she like to visit to his Mulberry Street digs?

-Sure, why not? Sounds fun!

Sounds fun. Fun, Joey thought. Fun. Joey could get used to fun.

Wait would he need to pay her cab fare downtown? He took a gamble she might split the fare.

He hoped his roommate didn’t drink that cheap bottle of Chianti.  Come to think of it, he hoped his roommate didn’t have a girl over either.

Stress! Panic!  What door would he use?

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A fun, spontaneous column about the adventures of a fun, fictious character entitled “Joey Little Italy.” Read what you missed; installment One +  Two + Three + Four.

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