A Moody Manhattan Monday

Is it the Sheensters imagination or is that David Blaine guy a bit of a head case? The big news tonight is that the Brit Breathholder missed his world record by about 2 minutes. After a week of underwater escapades and diligent anaerobic training with the likes of good diving buddy Kirk Krack, apparently his months long regime of practicing in Meat Packing District back alley dumpsters failed as he unexpectedly gasped when a passerby played J-Lo on a boom box.



Luckily, we missed the whole tragic event because the tableside-crafted guacamole (spicy, medium or mild) and hand-shaken fresh squeezed Margaritas at Dos Caminos on Park Avenue kept us distracted with the giggle-snorts of le 'fish taco' and other assorted delicacies that appeal to the higher intellectual types with whom Sheena consorts. The opportunity to turn up one's nose at all bovine items not Argentinian also proved irresistable, as the trio of carnitas tacos issued their siren call.


Afterwards at an Irish Pub, we watched the tuxedo clad men and lollypop-headed matrons leave Carnegie Hall. Wonder who was playing tonight. Momentarily feel guilty for spending a Manhattan evening eating & drinking with friends rather than taking in the more serious cultural offerings that the Big Apple has to offer.

Shrug. Order another pint and resume joking with the British tourists at the next table. Realize none of the people crossing the street are smiling. Lose the regret.