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would.”
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Diana Sheridan
“That would make for some great headlines right before my
speech. ‘Motivational speaker arrested on plane on public indecency
charge.’ I’ll pass.”
They got up to no hijinks whatsoever on the plane. Fortunately,
the flight was uneventful in every other way, as well. They landed at
LaGuardia only five minutes behind schedule, which Corey said he
considered “on time” for all practical purposes, and they caught a cab
to their midtown hotel.
They had more baggage than they’d brought with them to
Cedarvale. They each had two big suitcases, rather than the smaller
ones they’d brought last time, plus a garment bag each, and Corey’s
laptop, and there was a third, smaller suitcase in which each had put
those items that would not fit in the large suitcases. When they got up
to their room, they saw that they had two double beds instead of the
king-size bed Corey had requested. Corey was all for calling
downstairs and asking for a room change, but Curtis persuaded him
that they could both easily share a double bed, just as they did at
home, and Corey conceded he was right.
It was late afternoon already, and Corey suggested they find
someplace where he could have a drink and Curtis could have
something nonalcoholic but refreshing. Curtis, being sensible, said,
“Why don’t we do that at the restaurant? We don’t have a car at our
disposal, and cabs are not only expensive but I’m told they’re often
hard to get in New York.”
Corey had to agree that made good sense. “I have the name of a
good Middle Eastern restaurant in midtown, about a half a mile from
here,” he said. “What do you say we walk it? We can take in the
sights on the way. If we’re going to be tourists, we may as well act the
part. Walk with our heads up to the skyscrapers and gawk?”
Curtis laughed at the description but agreed to the suggestion, so
they changed clothes and set out for the restaurant. As it was still
early, they got a table without waiting. They weren’t used to dining so
The Adonis Dating Service: Curtis
65
early, but they’d skipped lunch, as they were just boarding the plane
around noon and hadn’t brought lunch aboard with them.
Corey ordered a double bourbon. “I’m not driving,” he pointed
out, “and the speech isn’t tonight, either.” Curtis ordered club soda
with a splash of lime juice.
“We have some excellent bottled sparkling waters,” the waiter
suggested.
“Club soda will be fine,” Curtis said. Then he had a sudden
realization—he hadn’t been intimidated by the waiter. Was it possible
the hypnosis was having an effect?
They both ordered lamb preparations for their dinner and, by
mutual consent, they each shared half of their dinners with the other.
Both dishes happened to come with chick peas, but prepared
differently. Corey’s chick peas came mixed with green peas in a
sauce. Curtis’s came with onions and spices.
Dinner was excellent. Far from cheap but, both agreed, well worth
the price. The waiter tried to tempt them with desserts, but both Corey
and Curtis were quite well filled. “Perhaps one dessert to share
between the two of you?” wheedled the waiter, but the two men
firmly declined.
Tired, full, and cold in the New York winter they were
unaccustomed to, they agreed to catch a cab back to the hotel. It was
still early, only seven thirty, and Curtis suggested they might yet get
last-minute tickets to a show, but Corey said, “I don’t want to be a
party pooper, but I’m really tired, and I certainly don’t want to get
sick before my speech. Let’s stay in.”
Although he was disappointed, Curtis said, “As long as I’m with
you, I’m happy,” which was true enough in spite of his
disappointment.
They made up for it the next day, though. They got up early,
headed to Rockefeller Center, and took in the sight of the big tree.
Then they went skating at the ice rink, where they did no better than
they had at Cedarvale, spending more time on their butts than on their
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Diana Sheridan
feet, but fortunately they did themselves no serious damage when they
fell. From there they went to Radio City Music Hall, where they
scored a couple of tickets to the matinee, then went looking for
someplace to have lunch.
“Let’s do as the New Yorkers do and eat hot dogs from a Sabrett
cart,” said Corey as they passed a hot dog vendor on a corner, but
Curtis nixed that idea, and they wound up at a kosher-style deli,
where Corey ordered an overstuffed corned beef sandwich, Curtis
ordered an overstuff pastrami sandwich, and they once again traded
half each. There was a bowl of sour garlic dill pickle slices on the
table, and the sandwiches came with potato salad and coleslaw.
Wanting to make the most of the experience, they also shared an order
of latkes—Jewish-style potato pancakes—though they wound up
wrapping the last latke in wads of paper napkins and stuffing it in
Corey’s pocket for later. They just couldn’t eat any more.
“You’ll have to roll me back to the Music Hall,” Corey said.
“Me, too,” Curtis echoed.
They stood in line to get into the theatre, and Curtis reflected on
what a wonderful vacation they were having. Just being with Corey
was enough of a treat for him, but this? This was pure bliss. Oh, if
only the hypnosis works! I don’t want to lose Corey. I really, really
don’t want to lose Corey.
The Christmas show at Radio City was always a treat for out-of-
towners and even some New Yorkers, according to the woman in line
in front of them, who said she was from Westchester, in the suburbs,
and asked where they were from. Once they were inside the theatre
and seated, there was a bit of a wait before the show started. The
couple talked quietly between themselves, and Corey took the latke
out of his pocket. “I’m still pretty full, but I suspect a cold and greasy
latke would be no treat at all. Want to split this now?” So they broke
it in half and ate it up surreptitiously, then wiped their greasy hands [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]