Loud French

LOUD
Taking advantage of the awesome weather - and days off of work - Daniela and I decided to eat lunch street-side at Sarabeth's on the UWS. The place was packed, but we did end up scooping one of the five outside tables. A lovely lunch until a middleaged couple sat next to us. As we gabbed, the woman says to Daniela, "Excuse me, could I ask you to please lower your voice?" I was shocked, and pissed - and I half-wanted to turn to the woman and say, "Can I ask you to turn down your outfit?" because the shade of bright turquois was as damaging as the sun and I didn't have any SPF that could protect me from that mess. As we left, Daniela said under her breath, "I hope you choke on your lunch." She's all class. We spent the rest of the afternoon combating strollers, and elbowing people through stores. Not really relaxing.
AU REVOIR
I broke things off with Frenchy last night, in a really nice way I might add - and he was so pissed at me upon parting that he actually said, "Well, I wouldn't want to date you long-term anyway, because you're a smoker and I don't date smokers." I was like - what?? Nice table-turning, buddy - and you're from FRANCE - where Le Phillipe Morriset is eating a beignet at any sidwalk cafe. Anyway, Frenchy's become The Patch for me. Or The Jerk. I "netted" a real loser. Story of my life.