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I Cried. In Public.

It's not what you think.

Saturday night was date night. Husband and I were particularly spent for reasons I will not go into now, so our first stop was Starbucks. Tall bold pour moi and short capp for the man. We got our coffees and we walked. And walked. We had no plan. Imagine that.

We stopped in Columbus Circle and had a cocktail at the bar at the swank sushi restaurant Blue Ribbon in the 6 Columbus Hotel. We talked and took it all in - the din of an early weekend evening in Manhattan, the buzz of tourists checking in, the chirp of a moderately-intoxicated middle-aged chick next to me who was drinking something uber-enigmatic (and, apparently, uber-alcoholic) called the Urban Organic.

And then. It was decision time. We were marginally-rejuvenated but still draggy. To mosey toward home and grab a bite at a local fave or hop on the subway and head downtown toward the relative unknown?

Believe it or not, we choose Door B. On the subway, I jotted literary ideas on my iPhone in an embarrassing frenzy. And before we knew it, we were there. On West 4th. We got out and we walked. We happened upon a few restaurants that we know and love. I said: No, let's try something new!

Now. This is not really like me. I am not overly adventurous. But we did it. We wandered into a dark and packed Thai restaurant. They didn't have a table for us, so we took a seat at the bar. We perused the menu. When the bartender came to take our dinner order, I asked a question: What's the spiciest thing on the menu?

The swordfish curry, he said, flashing an impish, uh-oh grin.

Fast forward fifteen. The curry arrives, and with it? A plate of cucumber spears resting on ice. Not the best sign, huh?

Fearless, we grab our forks and dive in. It's spicy, but we are okay. The waiter comes to check on us. He says that we are champs because we are not crying. The cucumbers? They sit untouched. Child's play!

But then. Suddenly, my tongue is on fire. Flames, I tell you. And my eyes? They are full of tears. I grab desperately for the cucumbers.

We survive. We do. We make it home, chuckling about our spicy Saturday night adventure.

But I wonder what this is all about. This sudden desire for adventure, for underground trips downtown to unknown eateries. This sudden craving for ruthless spice.

Do you guys have any thoughts? Insights? Guesses?

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Do you like spicy food? Adventure? Do you ever go on wandering/adventure dates with your significant other? Has your palate changed over the years? Have you ever cried in public because of firey food or something else?

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