I departed on Saturday afternoon (I didn’t want to miss yoga!), arriving in Toronto a few minutes shy of nine o’clock. The sidewalks were already crawling with young beauties in too-high stilettos and college boys in their pressed white shirts hoping to make the best of this Saturday night.
A soft drizzle kept all our feet swiftly moving towards shelter. I love Toronto on a rainy night when the sidewalks glisten and clouds of fog mask the tops of skyscrapers. Although I didn’t have an umbrella, I chose to walk to the vegan restaurant I had already chosen for my dinner, covering the ground between York/Front and Queen/Spadina as rapidly as possible.
Equipped with newspaper and notepad, I enjoyed my dinner at Fressen’s bar, chatting occasionally with the dreaded-out barman and eavesdropping on the conversations of young, pretty Torontonians as they communally rehashed their lives. Or compared workout regimens. Or debated the colour scheme at their upcoming wedding.
The food was very good, blending beautifully with the chai latte that accompanied me home.
And then, like any girl with a week’s worth of tired tugging on her shoulders and a super swank hotel room, I spent the rest of my Sattie immersed in a soft bank of white duvet, occasionally poking my nose out to catch an SNL skit on the ridiculously large TV.
After all, Ms. Julie needed to look fresh for her photo shoots on Sunday.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment