time with myself.

 

Knocked off on the dot and I went back to the apartment to slip on my new Nine West stilettos. I met my reservation of 730pm at Cuba – it was my first time having cuban food and my curiosity was piqued. Waited at the bar while they set up my table, with a Sangria in hand – the 1st of the 5, or 6 that I had. 

A two-piece band came on that infectiously had the crowd chorusing, although what was more stellar was the old mexican man sitting by the window sill rolling fresh cigars for sale. Guess you can take the man out of Cuba but you can’t take the Cuba out of a man  

After dinner, I made my way to le poisson rouge, a hop skip and jump away from the restaurant. The nyc jazz festival was running for another week or so and I really wanted to catch Soul Live and Joshua Redman. 

Keeping up with tradition, the performing artistes were fashionably late – of which they were forgiven for after enchanting the audience 20mins into the first set. Like a visiting old friend whom you don’t wish to say goodbye to; the gig was up after 4 hours which must’ve really been 2. 

I hailed a cab and got right in, while the jamaican driver chimed ‘Ow was yer night lady?’ Having the mix of Sangrias, beer and Vodka lime still buzzing inside me, I let out a faint sigh and realised that this night had hosted one of the best dates I ever had.