yolo

This week I ate at a fancy restaurant where I paid $30 for a salmon lox, warm, flaky croissants, mini cheesecakes and orange juice in stemware. I was paying more for the classy ambiance of a chic establishment that serves small portions on square plates than I was for the food itself. I sat at my table wearing a new jacket, listening to the piano playing in the background and waiting to meet a group of friends I haven’t seen since graduation.