Writing left handed

Brunch, in Theory

Isn't Philadelphia pretty in the spring?

Brunch seemed like a lovely idea at the time: a leisurely stroll into town, a cup of coffee while waiting for a table at Beau Monde and a round of crepes at Philadelphia’s premier French bistro (just in time for Philadelphia’s International Festival of Arts, I might add, the city-wide celebration of all things Parisian).

I’m very into Paris—not as a city, but as a concept—and I’m very into brunch—not as an everyday thing but as a weekend treat—but here it is 8:30am and I’m not even dressed yet.  My date will be here in half an hour and I’m still sitting at my laptop in my robe with nary a scrap of clothing or make up on my person and I have no idea what I’m going to wear because originally we were going to go on a picnic but then the weather decided to go all April-showers on us so we switched to brunch instead.  (Obviously I can’t very well wear the same thing to brunch that I’d planned to wear to a picnic, now can I?)

In the time it’s taken me to chronicle this morning’s mishap, six minutes have gone by.  It is not 8:36 and if our first date is of any indication, he’s going to be early.

This means I have approximately seven and half minutes to stop being naked.


4 Responses to “Brunch, in Theory”

  1. Pat Amsden

    At 8:00 or 8:30 in the morning you’re not talking brunch you’re talking breakfast and not a very late one at that. Brunch is for 11:00 at the earliest, better yet 11:30. The mere thought of having to be dressed for brunch that early is just wrong!

    Pat Amsden

  2. Zak

    The only things I like to be up at 8:30am for are yoga, breakfast (if someone else cooked it), sex and work… well, I am up for work, but I don’t like it at that time in the morning…


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