Scene: 8:10 p.m. Thursday, I’m walking home from Central Park and stop at the intersection of 57th and 8th. Two young blonde women are in front of me. An older woman to my right. One of the blondes takes a sip out of a red keg cup and promptly turns right and throws up in the gutter. She yells something about alcohol. I giggle.
Sober friend: “Shhh!” (to her friend). She turns to the woman next to me. “Ohmygod! That was so inappropriate.”
Older woman: “Honey, it would only be inappropriate if it were a Tuesday. That’s why we have friends. I hope you’re still having fun when you’re my age.” She gives sober friend a little hug.
Sober friend turns to her drunk friend. “She’s so cool!”
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.