If Suzanne Vega Was My Best Friend (A Reality Break)

Sometimes everything is hard. Lately, I have been feeling like I am melting away. Eventually what will be left will be an essential core of who I am.

In the meantime, I did the kind of daydreaming that was best exemplified by the recently departed and greatly beloved The Toast. So I offer you this while I melt away.

My imaginery Best Friend

If Suzanne Vega Was My Best Friend

If Suzanne Vega was my best friend, we’d go have dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant in her neighborhood and then hit a jazz club in the Village where we would run into someone she knew who would join us and become my new friend.

We’d get drunk on Italian red wine and talk about our divorces.

We’d have a sleepover at her place and she’d make me french press coffee and I would run down to the little bakery and bring back something lovely to have with it.

We would battle the summer heat by listening to Joni Mitchell while lying on the floor in our tee shirts and underwear in front of an electric fan and eating hippy popcicles.

She would introduce me to interesting, yet non-pretentious New Yorkers who would invite us to go to the coolest gallery show openings.

We would window shop in used bookstores and second hand clothing stores and she would marvel at my womanly curves while I marveled at her sylph-like body that could wear the tiniest of vintage dresses.
If Suzanne Vega was my best friend.

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