Look Away, Dance-Nik

Yesterday, The Greats Mushnik and Silent Bill took The Greats Ducknik and Plotnik out to lunch to celebrate Duck's birthday. They went to Dance-Nik's old neighborhood, one of Plottie's favorites in the whole shebang city, and to a very cool restaurant on the corner.



They paused in front of Bloom's Bar, looking through to the amazing view out the rear windows...



...and then across the street to, well...



In deference to Dance-Nik, no one walked into Farley's, though it was filled inside with people spilling out onto the sidewalk tables. "Doesn't anyone work around here?" wondered Mush but, hey, we were out messing around too.



It was one of those Saint Plotniko Chamber of Commerce days, just enough heat, just enough wind, only a wispy beginning of the afternoon fog, sun illuminating all the little corners at 18th Street and Connecticut and poking into the alleyways like a nosy tourist peeking over the fence.

We talked about Manhattan and Brooklyn (Plotnik's been writing a song about New York so it's on his mind) but kept coming back to Saint Plotniko. It's smaller here, all around. Fewer stores. Fewer fun neighborhoods. The buses don't run as often. Less people on the streets and too many of them homeless.

But a city is only about the friends you've got there. We could live in Hindustan if our friends came along too.

Today is Ducknik's birthday. She's got slick new earrings. Feliz Cumpleanos, Mi Pato.