We’ve been enjoying the gorgeous weather and beaches on the East End, the wineries on the North Fork, and some outstanding restaurants. Most of the meals we’ve been indulging in have been local seafood, simply prepared and served. Its not fancy — or cheap — but its fresh and delicious.
At one canal-side restaurant, we bump into a friend of mine from college, wife and kids in tow. We also had an elegant meal at the American Hotel in Sag Harbor, which leads to this charming anecdote:
We are enjoying delightful meal at the restaurant — 5 star food, wonderful service — and Mrs. Big Picture and I are taking in the crowd. Its a lot of beautiful people, glamorous, eclectic — and dripping wealth.
As we were ogling the room and enjoying our food, an older gentleman finishes his meal, and makes his way over to us and walks up to our table.
Every now and again someone recognizes from the blog, so I kinda brace myself for the “Aren’t you . . . “
Instead, he asks “Do you have a silver Ferrari?”
The street outside is littered with luxe rides — Rovers, Mercs, Porsches, Bentleys. Of all this expensive sheet metal, I did notice a silver Ferrari 612 Scaglietti on the street on the way into the restaurant. Not my favorite F-car, but a formidable machine with a 534 HP supercharged V12 nonetheless.
“The 612? I saw that outside — no, that is not my car. Why do you ask?”
He responds “I have a 911, and on the way into town, I was playing with a Silver Ferrari.”
Ok, I’ll bite: “Why did you think that was my ride?”
The gentleman answers: “There was a beautiful blonde in the passenger seat. I thought that might be your date.”
The wife gently blushes. It made her night.