Breakfast

Last night we was drunk with an o, so this morning called for breakfast out, what I haven't done in ages, at Kitchenette in Tribeca. It's the kind of cramped place where you may end up seated inappropriately close to some other party, which we were, and so you know your entire conversation is being absorbed. Which just makes you want to be funny, which you think you are, because you are still drunk. Friend says he used to have the body of a heavy lifter, now he has the body of a heavy reader. When he started telling me what movies to see, the guy next to us finally interrupted (the charade) and asked whether There Will Be Blood felt too claustrophobic.