Ladies Who Lunch

I met Stamps for lunch today, but was craving something relatively healthy since I had assailed my body and mind with junk the night before with a Southern style dinner at Georgia's Eastside BBQ followed by a double helping of reality television, watching both Jersey Shore and The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion show (part 1, can't wait for part 2 next Tuesday).  We settled on Forty Carrots in Bloomingdale's, the brightly colored health food restaurant famous for their frozen yogurt with a ton of toppings, which far predates the Pinkberry or Red Mango shops that have popped up all over Manhattan.  We each ordered the $13 bunched lunches with soup, a half sandwich and a small frozen yogurt - potato leek with chicken salad for Stamps and vegetable with no-mayo tuna salad for me.

(salad eaters unite)

As we looked around the restaurant, our eyes following the orders of the other diners wide with food envy, we noticed something unmistakable about the clientele.  "There is one man in this entire restaurant" whispered Stamps gesturing towards some older gentleman.  I scanned the restaurant and indeed he was the lone male, other than the waitstaff, in a sea of women eating swirls of creamy yogurt-y goodness the size of their heads (see above photo).  I watched the graceful older woman to my right who was elegantly dressed in a black cashmere cardigan and tailored pants with a classic quilted Chanel bag tucked neatly beside her, push away her unfinished salad.  She actually refused the frozen yogurt, probably to maintain her slim figure.  The pair of blondes to my left, indulged in leafy green salads and yogurt while chatting nonstop about the one girl's fertility issues.  These are the ladies who lunch of NYC, a bunch of well groomed, well dressed b**ches that married hedge fund guys, stopped working and have time to linger over their froyos and then do some shopping, while women like me and Stamps are forced to shovel our desserts down our throats before our bosses come looking for us.  Quite frankly - we were jealous.

(half chocolate, half vanilla - yum)

Our plates were cleared and our heaps of froyo were placed in front of us.  Each bite was like a little holiday in my mouth - delicious.  We may not have the luxury of not working (damn it I need to win the lottery) and the time to shop away an afternoon with friends on a weekday - but we do have an hour lunch break to escape a pile of work, have a bite to eat with a fellow desk monkey, and share the stories of the day.  And, of course - we always have the yogurt!