Had lunch at Dahlia Lounge today. Ordered my usual grilled bread salad with pesto, oil-cured olives, fresh mozzarella and coppacola (I always humor myself by looking at the menu, but really, who am I kidding?). Topped it off with the pear tart (nestled in a puff pastry shell, topped with almond cream and warm caramel sauce). That part wasn't my usual...I often go for the fabulous creme caramel. Disappointed by the coffee, however. Specifically, I was bummed that since my last visit, they had traded out their usual rustic sugar-in-the-raw cubes for tiny, plain white sugar cubes, paired up and wrapped in paper (for your protection!). I loved those little tan cubes!
Afterwards, I stopped next door at Dahlia Bakery to pick up a loaf of pain de campagne. When I exited, a rather questionable looking gentleman (I use that term loosely) asked me for a "favor."
"What?" I said, giving him a hard look.
"I'm trying to raise $15..."
"No," I said, turning my back on him. Then my coworker emerged. She said "no" before the guy even had a chance to ask his favor.
"You shouldn't talk to me that way," he said. "You don't know me...or what I can do."
Excuse me? Being threatened at 1 p.m. in broad daylight on a sunny day in front of Dahlia Lounge? The nerve!
I have two regrets:
1) That I didn't get a better look at the details of his appearance before he moved halfway down the block. I would have totally turned his ass in to the police. Bastard.
2) That I didn't have the presence of mind to utter this snappy comeback: "Yeah? Well, you don't know me. And since you don't, you don't know that I'm sick of getting asked for money, and that just this morning I decided that I was going to pop the next guy who asked me for any." Of course, to make that effective, I would have had to been able to pull a gun (or a reasonable facsimile) out of my Kate Spade purse. I don't think a finger-in-the pocket gun would have worked. Especially since, today, I am without pockets.