An Evening at Ferrara’s
Many years ago Peter and I sometimes would go to Greenwich Village on weekends. We sauntered around as we people watched. We browsed through the various shops. Sometimes we would have dinner and at other times we would go for desserts and coffee. Sometimes we would go with friends and at other times, alone, just the two us or perhaps with our dog Max.
Peter loved going out. If he had his way, we would have each and every meal out. I remember one particular snowy evening, it was almost bedtime, he suggested we go to Coney Island for a hot dog and caramel corn. I looked at him in disbelief. It was snowing steadily, it was past nine o’clock and Coney Island is a long way away! I said no. We negotiated and finally we settled to have coffee and chocolate cake at a nearby diner. That was Peter.
On this particular evening, a Saturday, we had a friend over. It was the start of summer. Peter mentioned the Village. He spoke of it so fondly, that she became curious. “Come on, let’s go!” he said. Before we knew it, he herded us into the car and off we went.
Saturday night in the Village used to be jumping. Crowds of people would be everywhere. When we reached the Village that night, it was no different. We circled around and around looking for parking. Just as we were about to give up, by some miracle, and it was a miracle, we found a spot! Peter shoehorned the car into the barely adequate space. As we opened the car doors, the sound of laughter and happy people greeted us from every direction. We followed the sound and reached one of the more popular streets. The crowds were so dense, one could hardly move. The well-lit shops were filled with shoppers. Sidewalk cafes were full of happy diners. The sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses seemed to fill the air.
We peered into the different stores. Peter’s attention was drawn to a store that sold old records and posters. He was fascinated with some old posters that one vendor displayed. He patiently sifted through some and bought a few. Our friend and I examined some fancy combs in one place and knockoff handbags at another. My hair was long then, so I purchased some combs.
Thus we spent our time, meandering from one shop to another until we reached Ferrara’s. Ferrara’s is an old establishment famous for its superb pastries and excellent coffees. It must be a hundred years old. They have been at the same place all those many years. It has always been a popular meeting place. They are famous for their desserts and coffees, which are outstanding. That evening the place was jumping. The aroma of the coffee teased the senses and drew us into the shop. The famous coffee shop was full. Waiters were rushing to and fro with trays of coffee and desserts balanced precariously above their heads, in order not to bump into someone. I was impressed. How do they weave in and out of the crowds without any incident? It was truly a juggling act! They quite impressed me! I looked at them in fascination.
Suddenly I realized that Peter and our guest were exclaiming about something. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Stop being so vain, Stella! Wear your glasses!” Peter chuckled. “Yes Stella, wear your glasses!” echoed our guest. Curious, I put on my glasses and looked in the direction that they were looking.
“OH. MY. GOD!” I exclaimed at the top of my voice. Conversation stopped for a split second and then suppressed laughter burst out throughout the spacious dining room. Sitting at the far end of the room, but strategically centered, was a sexy female siren. She looked like an exaggerated caricature of any man’s dreams. Her hair was dyed platinum blond and pushed up high in an impossibly teased bouffant chignon hairdo. Her face was beautifully made up. Her complexion was painted a creamy white with carefully rouged cheeks, heavy eye makeup, and the reddest of lips. She had the most attractive neck and shoulders. The eyes then traveled down to the neckline of her dress which barely covered the orioles of her nipples. Her demeanor did not leave much to imagination. But that was not what was the most noticeable in her appearance. Her breasts! Her breasts jutted out at an impressive and impossible distance over the table. It looked as if every ounce of flesh in her body was strategically squeezed into those pair of breasts! She had the tiniest of a corseted waist and the most pleased look on her face. Her expression seemed to say, “Aha! I got your attention! I really did! I like that!”
Peter, on the other hand, had a pained expression upon his face. “Do you always have to draw attention to yourself?” he hissed. “I did not. She did!” I replied indignantly. And indeed she did. I know I was not being ladylike, I simply could not stop laughing, and because of that, most people could not suppress their laughter either. It was highly infectious! The laughter rippled across the room. It had attained a life of its own. Even the waiters with their trays balanced over their heads could not suppress the barely controlled smiling twitch that spread across their faces! She did not seem to care. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with the effect she created in that space!
Years have passed since then. but every time I think of that evening, I cannot help but smile. After his temporary chagrin, so did Peter. He did not tire of recounting the incident of the evening we had coffee at Ferrara’s so many years ago. And that is the tale of our amusing visit to Ferrara…