lonely lovely city

lonely lovely city

Tuesday, July 31, 2012


I stopped in my favorite bakery in the West Village around three. As I walked in, I saw Chelsea Clinton and a blonde assailant to my left, a friend rather who was besides her. They were standing up and talking closely. Chelsea, beautiful as ever, was in the throws of a intimate conversation. I am always first to notice other's fashion choices. And this political heiress didn't disappoint. I would say she was in a dark blue ensemble, lets just call it a suit with a patterned creme shirt. Her high heels were made of a velvet material, with just the right amount of make-up, and straightened, blonde hair, thicker than you can imagine, that went past her shoulders, probably five inches or so.

I seemed to get all of this in a span of five seconds.

The set up of the cafe is awkward. The line begins right where the kitchen ends. Don't ask. As I stood in line behind another couple, I took yet another glance. Since I like to refer to myself as a sophisticated New Yorker, I tend not to stare. I've had my share of celebrity run ins with living here and LA LA Land. Whether I have waited on them, or met them, or seen them walk in my neighborhood, I just go on. Whatever. Something was different about this encounter though.

Since I don't care much for politics, I am not sure why I cared? Perhaps it is because her father was one of the most kick ass presidents this country has ever had, or perhaps it had something to do with her mother being the Secretary of State, the indelible, Hillary Rodam Clinton. Or maybe it just had something to do with curiosity and envy, believing her life is slightly better than mine.

Its strange to think how small this world is and how we are all connected. In a tiny obscure cafe on W.3rd street, I run into a well known woman whose parents changed the world.

When I was a senior in high school, I remember watching her dancing on the stage when her father won the election, braces, kinky hair, the infamous grin, and pale, youthful skin, taking front center as she posed for the world. Fast forward twenty years later and we are all grown up and moving on with our lives.

There was something special and random about that moment today. I paid for my item and proceeded to leave. I could hear random tidbits about an up coming appointment as I pushed the door. That's all I got. I loved how others walked in and made nothing of it. I like that about NYC. It is one of the places where you can just be whomever you are and be whomever you are with and no one cares. After all, this isn't LA. No one really gives a shit that much who you are here. And, just like that I was off to mail something and go about my business. Just another day in lower Manhattan.