Friends and jealousy, as separate as oil and vinegar.

Neither Broadway shows nor work dinners were the reasons I found myself clamoring through Times Square tonight. I had trouble finding the Crowne Plaza where my friend C was staying. Darting into the Ferris-wheeled Toys 'R Us to escape the windswept crowd, I made one last pleading attempt to find where he was. It's across the street from the Hershey store is not sufficient directions for New Yorkers. Note that.

A few minutes and a half dozen crowded street corners later I found myself reunited with an old friend. We small-talked our way to a sufficient bar on 9th Avenue before settling in for a few drinks. Twelve year Balvenie called, and I picked up. Neat. As always.

C is a rare gem in my life; whether that is five days or five years, I'm usually the one at fault for dropping the conversation with him. I have a harder time accepting that notion than I do admitting it. I promise to improve upon this. Someday.

But as always, conversation picks up where it left off like we never missed a step. He's still working on his magazine for our generation, enjoying life in D.C as a consultant in the meantime. His clear-mindedness is one to envy. I bounced career ideas off of his more experienced life's work. Love and ambition, family and college times; all discussed over a pair of Tanqueray's.

We pushed ourselves through the post-dinner crowd and parted ways at the Crowne. As I made my way to towards the safety of the train I passed this gent' doing what I've been meaning to do for some time; capture TS with something grander than my cell phone camera. My Blackberry sufficed once again, jealous of his initiative.



Some day.