Late dinner, alone

I’m at Patsy’s right now, and it’s after 11. If that don’t beat all.

I miss this city. That’s never been something I’d hide. But I miss this city so bad. Thirty minutes ago I put a friend in a cab to hit the LES. I was this close to joining her, but I really can’t do the post-11 partying anymore, and I had the sense to withdraw for the night. So rather than head down to—let’s face it—my favorite Manhattan neighborhood to continue the schmoozing and boozing, I walked north, up 3rd Avenue, back toward the apartment that was so graciously handed over to me for two nights this weekend. On the way, somewhere within the first couple of blocks, I’m sure, I decided that at the first decent-looking pizza joint, I’d stop in and grab a quick slice—“not too hot!”—to eat as I walked. But I didn’t pass anyplace serving slices and open, other than Ray-Bari, and come on; I ain’t buying a slice from any Ray-Bari. So I had given up hope, and was all set to cross over to the west side of 3rd Avenue as I approached 60th Street, when the neon sign of Patsy’s hit me, just in the corner of my eye, and I went inside. How could I resist?

Of course, one of the few true VPN joints in the Midwest, possibly in the whole US, is one of my favorite pizza places in Saint Paul. I’m sure I’ve mentioned them before, and if not, I sure should have. But still; there’s something about a pie from Patsy’s—and, let’s face it, after a couple of highballs (we each must remember J. D. Salinger in our own way), and a long night of meeting not only ENIV and uber-successful Tenner Suzanne Young, but a number of other SCBWI members in various stages of publication and pre-publication—that to me at this moment felt well deserved.

The conference will continue tomorrow. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. I plan to show up in my brown Jack Purcells and a comfortable pair of khakis, knowing full well that this trip to NY has paid off beautifully already.

Did I mention I miss it? Dear Brooklyn, I’m sorry I’m not going to get out there this trip. In May, we’ll hook up in a big way.

Anyway, I'll have more to say on the conference when I get home. I miss my wife and son so much. I'm sure everyone I've met has been thrilled to look at the lo-res photos on my phone.

*This post written at Patsy's, but uploaded in the morning from the main conference room at the Hyatt, Grand Central Terminal.