SUNDAY NIGHT VACATION.

There is nothing better than avoiding all of those who leave Manhattan for the weekends and head off to the beach. It’s not that I don’t like my 8 months of the year fellow city dwellers. I just prefer it when they are gone because then I can enjoy this truly wonderful city without having to lie and beg for reservations at some of New York’s finer eating establishments.
I pray every Sunday that good weather hits the tri-state shores and stays all Sunday afternoon allowing those on the beach to stay where they are until the very last minute. I then focus on creating as much traffic as is feasibly possible on all approach roads to the city during Sunday late afternoon and early evening, preventing the weekend away crew from getting back in time for dinner. With this strategy in place, my wife and I venture off downtown to New York’s finest without a reservation and get greeted with smiles and a happy to see you and we will provide excellent service to you look from MaitreD’s that until we arrive, have been staring at empty tables.
I enjoy these Sunday night escapes. Last night we ate downtown at Aquagrill. It was fabulous. We felt like we were on vacation. We drove there. We found a free parking space on the street and we could walk the sidewalks hand in hand after without having to step into the streets and avoid the crowds. It was sheer bliss.

All was going swimmingly well until we arrived home to find three beach families returning, blocking the driveway to our garage and fighting over which family got the only luggage cart first. It developed into a full blown argument with the three Dads out of the car yelling incomprehensible stuff at each other and the Mothers hurling catty insults though open car windows. I was very calm, considering I had just arrived back from my dinner vacation and so I just waited in the car for the hullabaloo to die down. I was pleased to see that my city peers had enjoyed a thoroughly relaxing weekend and that the benefits of being away at the beach had worn off after five minutes of being home. I had spent one hundred and fifty bucks on a tremendous evening out. They had spent that on gas alone getting to and from their weekend retreat and were none the more relaxed for all their escapades. Long live Sunday nights in Manhattan. I choose being here over anywhere.