Lunch at Match 65 (Madison and 65th) with my son. The outdoor café was packed, but we still could get a table.
Soon a mouse was detected. The guests were united in excitement about the mouse.
A lady left from me, she was video calling while munching on a salad Niçoise – I must say, munching with a certain amount of disgust, said to me: ‘Tell me where the mouse is, otherwise I’m going to freak out.’
‘The mouse left,’ I answered.
Another lady said loudly: ‘It was a very young mouse.’
A man answered: ‘The mouse was a cripple.’
Then we were done with the mouse.
But not long after this exciting intermezzo I overheard another conversation. A lady asked a man – both in their fifties: ‘So you put peanut butter on your face and the dog licks if off?’ ‘I do it every day,’ the man said. ‘My dog loves it.’
‘We are done,’ I told my son in Dutch. ‘This is too much for me.’