On the Passive Aggressiveness that is making dinner reservations with a group of New York Women, Take 1

It all started with an email.

Ladies- dinner this week? Now that we’re all safely back from the beach and have stories to tell…

Girl

The replies invariably roll in.

Yes! They exclaim. Dinner sounds fabulous. How’s Wednesday? No no, I can’t do Wednesday, my boyfriend is dragging me to an engagement party uptown…I have a squash match at the University Club…my long lost friend from grade school is popping through New York on her way back from climbing Kilimanjaro en route to Stanford Business School and we are having a MUCH needed catch up dinner.

You know, the usual.

Ok, Thursday?

Hmm…I could do Thursday. Could you? Yes! I can, I mean, I have to meet my boyfriend later but girls dinner sounds fabulous. Fine its settled, Thursday Sep 4th it is. We can all celebrate all those things we didn’t celebrate over the summer. Great! So much to discuss. The excitement is almost unbearable.

Where should we reserve? I’d like to have a reservation somewhere.

No problem! We’ll find somewhere terrific, somewhere new! Buddakan? Not keen on the area, and not new. Alta? Been there a billion times. Really…are you cheating on us with other friends? (Radio Silence). A hundred Acres? I thought I said no American, how about Macondo? Lower East Side?! Sort of bizarre no? Not really our scene. Okay, la Paella? Mmm, sounds interesting I guess. Blue Ribbon Sushi? Wait is sort of a bitch. Café Cluny? I thought we wanted something exotic. Market Table? At this point I’ll eat my own arm for dinner.

Ok how’s 8 oclock? I have client drinks until 7:30, is that okay with everyone?

Mm, I’d like to go home and change first, how’s 8:30? Fine, 8:30 is just fine. Actually, hate to be annoying, but can we do 9? I want to go to the gym first. Fine, 9 is FUCKING FINE, OKAY.

Are you okay?

.....

Wait so we're hitting, Market Table, right?

Great! So psyched! See you ladies there! xoxox