Living and working in the Hamptons, one sometimes requires a reality check.
Whenever we find ourselves complaining about having to get dressed up to do another restaurant review (aka a free meal) my husband will say to me, or I to him: “Champagne problem!”
I also issue this bit of mental floss when my husband complains, “Crap, I can’t play that guitar gig on Friday, I promised to go into the city for dinner and that concert with John.”
These are not problems, these are Hamptons problems. There are others, like the weird, colorful dreams I have after a big dinner out. Too much alcohol gives me nightmares, but too much food…last night my old boyfriend gave birth to a healthy baby and roasted potatoes and I rented a tiny apartment with my friend Laura.
Why did these things happen in my dream life? I had a big dinner at Muse Restaurant and Aquatic Lounge in Water Mill. Is this why it’s named “Muse?” [expand]
Cheese has long been blamed for peoples’ dreams. I didn’t have any cheese—except for some vanilla cheesecake. Seems like that should make for a sweet, little dream.
I don’t know what a therapist would make of these dreams, ultimately they were pretty pedestrian. I mean, if Arnold Schwarzenegger can have a baby (in the film classic Junior), why not Big Al? I didn’t eat any roasted potatoes the night before…maybe I should have.
That tiny apartment that I rented with Laura was like a dorm room with a kitchenette. My husband and son helped me move in. It wasn’t like a life change, more like a little place for all of us to stay when we’re in the city, though I’m not sure what city. In the dream I worried about where my husband and son would sleep. There was only room for the two single beds. And what about Laura’s cat! What were we thinking?
At one point in the tiny apartment dream, two cute policemen walked in to say hi and check out the new digs. We were all friends, I think they joked about how small the place was. They told us we’d be very safe there and left. After they walked out, I saw in the mirror that I had bleaching paste above my mouth. I was so embarrassed! I had been flirting with these cute cops with goop on my face!
I don’t happen to have a mustache that requires bleaching in real life. I never put that goop on my face. Maybe I should drink more to avoid this kind of dream embarrassment. Champagne problem?
Check out all the best food and wine that the East End has to offer at Dan’s Taste of Two Forks on July 16 in Bridgehampton. Take in all the yummy details at www.danstasteoftwoforks.com. [/expand]