Three Black Spots

5 Dogs and Munch

Ah, the joys of the overheard conversation, specially the Mad Avenue ones that are meant to be overheard. It was a beautiful day, spring had sprung, and the sidewalk cafes had put their tables out on the street. Yoda Time! The Food Inspectors’ rules don’t apply outside the restaurant – so we could take Yoda eating with us.

There were five tables out, four were taken, and we nabbed the last one. Yoda’s stroller was given to the hat check person, his bowl of water and kibble were set down under our table, and then we had time to take in our neighbors.

First, he of the 50 mill advice. A mover and shaker par excellence. The evidence largely rested on his cuff links – diamond studded with the initials HS (I think) glittering away. Secondary evidence – the obligatory blonde who was crunching on her salad and water. But above all, the cell phone constantly in motion as he dispensed koans. ‘The deal will only come together in January, so don’t spoil your summer thinking about it’.

His King Charles Cavalier sauntered over to Yoda’s water bowl and slaked his thirst. From under other tables, dogs emerged. Soon there were five dogs partaking with great gusto and amity. The watering hole scene from the Lion King! Yoda played the gracious host, making space for his guests, and watched over them with great panache. Water refills were ordered, and we turned our eye to the wine list. Natch, an afternoon like this would be incomplete without a libation.

An then, I had my ‘ Gotcha’ moment. Seated on our row, but at the far end, strategically positioned by the door was Munch. Not he of the Scream, but of Law and Order. I have discovered long ago that it is safe and not at all infra dig to fess up to a Law and Order addiction. The best folks in the world are in thrall to the Doink Doink sound. Munch – he of the saturnine face, the black shades and messenger bag- he of the multiple sightings so far all on the Upper West Side, was ensconced dog in tow, wine glass in hand just three tables away.

Mina has High/Low instincts. ‘Why don’t you get a picture of me and Munch?’ I prefer to take the blase approach to celebrity sightings, mostly from a fear of rejection. ‘Naah-I can’t just go up to him and bug him for a picture’. And that is where the whole matter rested, for a while. But good white wine has a way of loosening inhibitions. Soon I was filled with a ‘why not’ state of mind. And so I stepped up, and asked if we could take a picture.

‘Do it suddenly, and do it fast’. I have never heard instructions delivered with such crispness and clarity. Wow. Was this extempore, or had it been scripted by an agent? Do words like these just trip lightly off the tongue, or are they part of a thespian’s repertoire? Is this what they they teach you in Method School? Stanislavski Zindabad!

I scurried back to Mina, telegraphed the instructions, she picked up Yoda and went over to Munch, and they had a long natter. His dog is called Bebe. Purebred American Mutt who made nice to Yoda, while I tried to find the decisive moment. We now have two good pictures, one iffy one, and a great story.

Deed done, we got back to our tables, filled with the frisson of having gone where no man had gone before. Mr Cufflinks had just sent back his lunch – he had ordered 3 portions of the same saled, but he wanted them all on one plate. They were brought back re-plated, with gold plated apologies that he graciously accepted. He then offered one big artichoke heart to the blonde, and proceeded to chow down on the rest.

All good afternoons must come to an end. On our way home, we drove past Mr Cufflinks headed back to work, King Charles in tow. We waved out, but didn’t catch his eye. One day, someone will advise us to give someone 50 mill just to make something go away.

One day, but not today.