No excuses for this one, and no pics either. But at some point fairly early in the evening — could have been as early as the open bar at East Village Tavern, maybe? — I knew fairly certainly that a Friday night dinner post would not transpire on time.
The question is: At what point do I preempt myself? At what point on a Friday night do I throw up a something, anything saying “I know I’m going to miss my Friday night post”? Anyhow, food for thought. Bah dum-bum.
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