roman cokes

I was still sleeping when Phil called. He was coming in from Albany to catch a show and wanted to meet up. I was still dreaming and I could hardly hear him through the crappy cell phone reception. In between static I told him I’d call him back when I wake up. I didn’t get out of bed till 3. I was so beat from the previous week and I wanted to take it easy so I didn’t call him back. It was already 3:30 and the day was wasting away. I got out the door and what was left of the day looked beautiful. You can finally feel that spring is coming.
    Went to Utrecht and bought a square blank book to sketch in and some brush tipped markers. I love getting a new blank book. So many ideas to put down on paper, so many things to create. Stopped into St. Mark’s bookstore and saw a book on an artist I want to explore more, Sigmar Polke. He overprints benday dot line art over 4/c images. The contrasting interaction between the two is very interesting.

Dave & Sim met me on Astor place. We walked around Bowery and Forsyth Street looking for a new place to hang. Something about the neon signage and the architecture in that area of the city reminded me of Mexico City. There was even a guy getting on his motorcycle chopper, wearing a poncho.

We were in the mood to eat some Spanish food and seafood. We were nearing Boca Chica but we didn’t feel like going there. We stumbled onto this great looking tapas bar on the south side of Houston & 1st Ave, Oliva. The place is tight and we were seated in the corner by the window. Vodka’s my drink but Spanish food made me want to try the other white drink, Rum. I just saw a subway ad in the streets, “Bacardi and Diet Coke. 0 Carbs, 66 calories.” So we ordered Rum and Diet Cokes and Mojitos, summer time drinks. Sim for the longest time in her drunken Miami days thought that they were called Roman Cokes. Our waitress was beautiful; dark haired and dark eyed. Dave said that there was a new pool hall that opened recently somewhere near Chinatown. I thought he meant corner billiards by Webster Hall but he was sure there was a new place. Great, I’m gonna get jumped by some Chinese gang members. We were zig-zagging all over little Italy so I asked a guy if he knew if this place existed. The place is on Elizabeth Street. New tables. New cues. My playing sucked.