Had dinner tonight with some old friends and a few strangers, just men, in a private restaurant that is also a cigar club in midtown Manhattan with Al Sharpton holding forth at a nearby table, and at ours discussions of everything from Anthony Weiner (one table mate knew him and he was the most vitriolic in his criticism from personal experience) to A Rod to RAY DONOVAN to ex-wives, to fatherhood, to cigars.
I don't smoke them and don't drink or smoke anything else so had three desserts instead. It was a lovely evening with stimulating conversation, good food, good fellowship and good conversation. But as I was entering, I ran into a friend, both of us dressed casually for a summer night. He happened to be wearing sneakers so had to give them up before going into the main room. An attractive older woman asked his shoe size and supplied a pair of leather men's shoes to replace his sneakers which she kept for him. Like going to the bowling alley. How odd the world is sometimes.