Isn’t this pretty? It’s painted rocks from the courtyard at SculptureCenter. They have an exhibit up called University of Trash. I snuck a rock in my pocket. Sssshhhh, don’t tell! Moving on……
My life this week is boxes, bubble wrap, and tape. I’m finding moving to be pretty stressful, which makes last night even more sweet. My husband asked me to go on a date with him and had a secret plan that he refused to share with me, except that is was weather dependent. We left home and walked and walked and walked, and on the way I guessed possible destinations. After a while we were so completely in no man’s land that I was sure we were going to Socrates Sculpture Park, but then we turned right.
Apparently, LIC is cool enough to have it’s own brand new boutique hotel! The place is called Ravel, and I think they suck. That’s right, they suck! They are located right next to the 59th Street Bridge, which truly is the middle of nowhere, and it’s ugly and loud. Surrounded by nothing but filth, they wouldn’t let us have dinner on the rooftop because MNH and I had flip flops on. Seriously?! And when MNH asked the guy at the desk, hoping to sweet talk him, he grumbled unintelligbly “Wehaveaasdktrictfkspolasiy”.
I’m sorry can you repeat that? We couldn’t understand you WHAT WITH ALL THE FOOD IN YOUR MOUTH.
Turns out, they are too posh for us and have a very strict policy, though apparently they are cool with their front desk clerk eating while on the job and talking to potential patrons with a mouth full of food. It was gross. Never go there.
Clearly, we left (we had no choice). MNH was disappointed because he planned it so we’d be on the roof at sunset. It was meant to be our big goodbye to LIC. Instead we found ourselves at a diner for a quick bite, and then headed to Dutch Kills for a few fancy cocktails. I told him he got major points just for thinking of it.
If you haven’t been there, go visit. It’s a great, dark speakeasy where the barman (he’s no bartender, but maybe he’s a barkeep) wears suspenders and knows all kinds of fun, old fashioned cocktails.
We each had a couple with great names like Sugar Plum, the Blue Collar, Fruit Cup and Gin Sling. We talked to Abraham, the talented barman, who MNH thinks knows about 1,000 cocktails. But Abraham wouldn’t tell.
Abraham treated us to a final cordial before we left, on the house. Getting a free drink is always a great treat, especially when it’s of the barman’s choice. So Abraham poured us a very nice looking drink and I asked, “What’s this one called?” to which he responded,
“The Brooklynite”.
See ya, LIC.
