Luckiest Girl Alive 

Luckiest Girl Alive 

There is nothing quite like dim lit dining on sushi in a high class restaurant with great people watching. Nobu, the fabulous hot spot place to dine that takes sushi restaurants to a whole new level. As we enter the large doors into a cologne filled room, I smirk at the smartly dressed men in suits and women in tight dresses as they twirl their olives in their extra dirty martinis. All these people camouflaging themselves to appear something their not as they eye their neighbors over wondering whose who and whose wearing what. I let out a breath of air, straighten my shoulders, and approach the hostess. “A table for three please.”

With the air of confidence and a quickened pace to my step, we are guided to coat check. The lady with the reservation book in hand glances me over before eyeing her manager for us to get seated. I smile slightly, trying my hardest to ignore the euphoric sensations emanating my insides. Her big brown eyes glance away to find her manager’s stern ones awaiting the look of order – he steps forward, grabs 3 menus and nods to follow him up the stairs to the dining room.

Grasping onto the wooden balcony, I follow the manager up emerald velvet carpeted stairs and hushed sounds of clanking glasses and tapping chopsticks fill my ears.  Chandeliers are splattered across the ceiling, radiating the caliginous room from front to back where Japanese chefs in crisp white uniforms chop fish in perfect rhythm. Feeling my face warm at the sight of flawless diners, I quicken my pace and smile at the manager for seating us at the corner booth right where I requested.

Absorbed in the civilized room among expensive taste I feel at home in the cozy booth with the view of the room filled with New York City’s finest diners and professional chefs. My head cocks back to soak it all in.

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