why i love new york, part one zillion

Work was slow tonight so I got cut pretty early. I was all set to go home and pass out to kill my hangover from last night, when my fellow waitress Natalie suggested we hang out when she got off. I went home and not-so-eagerly awaited her phone call while wishing I'd remembered to buy some Advil for the apartment. She called around 12:30 and, even though I could've gone to bed headachey and hungry right then, I left immediately to meet her at the bar next to my place. Hopeless lush. After several Beams + beers and stilted conversation with a nice very cute guy at the bar, I was feeling pretty good. But I was feeling even better when an enormous man passed our table on his way out carrying two doggy bags from Babbo. DOGGY BAGS FROM BABBO. He caught me staring at them and I asked how his meal was and mentioned that we worked at a Batali-affiliated restaurant. Instantly he handed over his business card from his restaurant in New Orleans along with one of the bags. Instead of the BBQ Ruffles I was about to go out to the deli for, we were now dining on what we concluded were a pork ragu with gnocchi, lamb ravioli, and paparadelle with mushrooms and butter sage sauce. With our fingers. Life just doesn't get much better than that.