yesterday, i slept until three. but i didn't know whether to believe the clock at first, but it was right. it was a good day to wake up at three. grey out, and i needed the sleep, and a nice long shower.

i did the crossword in a timesmag that was lying around; ben and i read up to act ii, scene iii in richard iii, with voices (clarence, for instance, got a daffy-style lithp); then we did some piano jamming, me doing my best ruben gonzalez impression over his steady tumbao grooves.

the power was out all afternoon, but it came back on the instant ben's mother walked in the door. dinner was great coldish takeouts from some gourmet place; bean salad, grilled veggies and stuffed cabbage.

from nonexistent plans, we crafted a fabulous evening out - trained in and met rae and rachel at grand central, then perused timeout to find a likely spot. we ended up at zinc bar, a nicely outfitted joint that gave us no problem about getting in ($5 cover), but did impose a fairly serious minimum (two drinks per person per set.)

we stuck with the specialty cocktails as advertised on a sign on the table - a round of cuban mojitos (rum, mint and limes - very tasty and not too strong, sort like an alcoholic version of ceviche. except without the seafood) and then two brazilian caipirinhas, which we shared, and were less impressive, though also good. what we didn't know was that the drinks were a preposterous $9 each. it's good that we stopped when did.

the experience was worth it though, i think. the entertainment was a truly fantastic cuban salsa band, frank bambara y sus salseros - guitar, bass, two violins, congas (the conguero also played clave on a woodblock with his foot) and a guiro player. they started with a tune i recognized (it was "dame un cachaito pahuele," which is on the second cubanos postizos record), and they also played "guantanamera" and probably some other things that lurk in the buena vista catalog.

the space wasn't really right for it, but rae and i got up to dance; of course, it turned out to be just as the set was ending. we tried again, half a caipirinha each later. yay! a dance with each rachel.

so - drinks, music, dancing. and the company was excellent. i guess we were a somewhat diverse-looking bunch: me all prepped out in ben's clothes (red turtleneck sweater; baby-blue ribbed tee, silk-lined grey slacks, skate sneaters); ben in an excellent black blazer and lavender button-down (the outfit which prompted some punks on the train to accost him: "you don't like us!"); rae inimitable, and rachel just off work in a green pleated skirt, shoulder-bag and sweatshirt with ska patches. there was a small chance it could have been awkward, but everyone was perfectly friendly. and, more than friendly.

rae left, and the remaining three (after we posed for a picture outside the club) went of in search of centro-fly, lack of time, funds, and ids notwithstanding. i don't mind, i just love walking around in the city, following my companions blindly (when and if i live here, i'm sure i'll learn the geography too, but for now i just trust and marvel), with all the ads and sight gags and the rain and the snatches of mtv hoopla. and with a lovely gal on my arm.

i got a much better sense of her than in vt, of course, more in line with her e-mail persona. showbiz dayjob, love of sondheim, scene-smarts and mad cab-hailing skillz, fingerquotes and simple declaratives - a nyc chick, not chic but burgeoning hip. i guess she has what you would call a button nose. cute in all senses. rae and ben ("too bad she's not older," he said, though i don't know why - i wouldn't want that myself) agreed/approved (and she of them), and i was just enjoying myself.

return to [grand] central (look! there's jon norris. there's avril lavigne! who are they?), for the last metronorth lines. a chaste kiss goodnight and then we went to our respective platforms. ben and i had funny talks on the way back, interspersed with a bit of velvet underground, one earbud apiece - his excellent leading questions: "do you like theater?" "do you have psychological insights into rae?"

he offered two of his gender theories: that while men (like us) often take a long time to formulate answers, requiring preliminary "deep" thought, women who do the same are seen as flaky or annoying (and thus are rarer); and, that women laugh at things that they wouldn't normally find funny, and without realizing that they wouldn't otherwise find them funny, when they are said by attractive men. i find the first plausible but overgeneralizing (i often find men who do that annoying - like joel - and can think of several women who do), and the second uncharacteristically controversial and probably not all that gender-specific (i certainly laugh at plenty of things that aren't funny, with and without knowing it) - although undeniable in plenty of cases (even as rachel would cling to me more tightly with each silly quip.)

back to the house with more of aijung's tape, for frozen pizza and sleep. today has been slow too - web stuff (by the way, i really like tasha's livejournal), gefilte fish, missy, greeley yearbooks, and old tapes of ben's blues band. i think i'll read a bit now.

sonny wanders beyond his interior walls