I get to Harry’s Café and Steak. The warm bar is a nice reprieve from the January wind licking my cheeks. The bar’s ambience is as warm as the heat, wood panel walls, faux leather booths, deep, rich wood and floors. I feel certain back in the 1920’s fancy and elegant New Yorkers dined the night away here.
I unwrap a hot pink scarf from around my neck and peer around the bar. No sign of Siobhan. Her friend Olivia is supposed to join us. I have never met Olivia. Nor do I know what she looks like. I am just hedging a chance that the woman sitting alone in the booth to the left is Olivia.
“Olivia?” I ask. “Yes,” she replies. “I am Siobhan’s friend. Desi Girl,” I say and slide into the booth. “Oh good to meet you. I was worried how I would find you. Siobhan said you were Indian. But you don’t look like I thought you would,” Olivia shares. Okay. Whatever that means, I think and wave a waitress over to order a glass of red wine. It is WAY too cold for sauvignon blanc tonight.
Olivia and I are chatting making small talk when Siobhan arrives and slides into the booth next to us. “How did you find her?” Siobhan asks Olivia about me. “She found me,” Olivia says. “Of course she did,” Siobhan says and gives me a sassy look. Siobhan orders wine and we continue talking. We order food. More talking. Cost of living in New York. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. Shake Shack (Siobhan LOVE LOVE LOVES this place). Then suddenly sports. Hockey to be exact. Olivia shares that she and Siobhan have recently been to a Rangers game. An excellent place to meet men. “We are going next week, again, you should come with us,” Siobhan says. “I am not into sports. But I am into stadium food. Nachos. Yum,” I say.
They nod and continue. The arena is loud, fun and filled with an electric air. They are gushing, beer, gushing, boys, gushing until I speak. “I don’t know. I much prefer collegiate hockey. I think the kids skate with more passion. The games are cleaner, smoother, better refs. Less violence…” I am saying when I stop. Siobhan and Olivia are staring at me. “What?” I ask. Siobhan shakes her head at me. “You just said you are not into sports,” Siobhan says. “I am not. However, some times I know stuff and that allows me to share a nice and appropriate and accurate, sports reference out of my as,” I reply. Also SUPER helpful, Desi Brother is a major University of Minnesota Golden Gopher fan, and he has taken me to games as his guest.
“Clearly!” Siobhan says.
We end up spending the whole night in Harry’s talking and laughing and being fabulous on a Friday night. We don’t stop to take notice of one single man. And that is okay. Sometimes girls just need to be girls with their girls.