The New York I Love to Remember
A heart that is worth a thousand words, a thousand guts, a thousand kisses, a thousand fights, a thousand make-ups, a thousand welcomes and a thousand farewells… It comes surprisingly soon, unexpectedly easy. Delivered on a ripped piece of paper with a borrowed pen. It is surrounded by daylight, music, food and wine. It is brought to life at a small restaurant in New York. You are having the most intriguing conversation with an Italian girl sitting at the table next to yours. You tell her about your Italian business partner and she starts teaching you the language. Your pronunciation makes her laugh. You both enjoy each other’s company in this overly-crowded and eventful restaurant you both happen to be in. An accidental acquittance, a pleasant conversation, a short piece of reminiscence stored in your ever-expanding library…
This little piece of evidence popped out of my blazer’s inside pocket and pulled me back a few years to Le Bilboquet. One saturday, one brunch, some tuna tartare, a medium rare filet mignon and too many glasses of the famous rosé. That was how it all started…
So you like oldish popular songs from my home town? the dialect is good, the song not so much