For Wicked Hot Chocolate at Jacques Torres
Whom she sometimes calls "Jacques Cousteau"
We swirl our cups like scotch
Not so much diving as slowly sinking in
Then Kathleen at Almondine
Where the quiche is so rich we taste the cream
She opens her new red leather bag and pulls out
a shopping tote, three glossy pouches, a polar bear whose head lights up and stories about where she found each thing
Voices low, gestures muted
Still we make a scene.