Sunday Night

I met Stephanie for an early dinner tonight which was the day of the New York Marathon. First Avenue is on the route of the Marathon, and today at 4:30, with the event long over, there were still some stragglers walking up First Avenue. There was a small group of people determined to cheer them on. I would imagine they needed it. I give them credit for not quitting.

At dinner, there were two couples at the table next to us who had all run in the Marathon and had their medals with them -- well, three of them did; one woman didn't bring hers. They asked us to take a photo of them with their camera. I have to say it does not compute in my head that you could run a marathon and then do anything less than head for (read: be carried to) an emergency room, much less go out and have a festive Mexican food dinner.

On our way out, we were talking to Maria, the owner of the restaurant, and mentioned the four people next to us. She said that they have a policy that anyone running in the Marathon gets their first drink for free. So of course Stephanie and I then claimed that we had run that day, but Maria asked to see our medals. She somehow didn't believe that we, too, had left them at home.

On the way home, I was struck by this sign that says SMOKED FISH -- actually it reads APPETIZING SMOKED FISH -- so this is my artsy rendition of "Sign on East 86th Street." You can make out SMOKED FISH right below the oval.