When Dreams Die

Last night I had a brilliant idea for a honeymoon.   New York City.   Yes, I realize it isn’t original or anything.  But it is so perfect. Luckily, Mr. L agreed.

So yeah, I think that’s what we are doing.   We were both totally stoked talking about everything we wanted to do while we were there.   When he excused himself for a moment, I quickly researched a dream.

High Tea at The Plaza.   Yes, I am secretly that gay.  But what could be more amazing than tea at The Palm Court?  Yes.  The Queen has tea.   So would Layla! Not only the Queen but FITZGERALD! and I’d be having tea where he had it as well!

I was so excited, I was trying to will him (Mr. L, not Fitzgerald) back quickly.   Then I loaded the menu that had the prices.   Hopes shattered.   No way I was going to pay that much.   Yes, I’m cheaper than I am whimsical, it seems.

However, this also turned into a moment where just when I think he couldn’t be any more fabulous, he became more so to me.  I was telling him what had been a former dream and he was all like  “I don’t want to pay that much, no, but if you -really- want to…”

So of course, that kind of attitude made me more convinced, no, I wasn’t THAT into the idea.   AND then he won even more points for keeping it real:  “well if the price is that much of a turn off to you, I’m certainly not going to complain.”

So yes,  absolutely not going to do that.  HOWEVER, all that being said, it’s not like the dream of High Tea *itself* has died.  Just the geography.  In London, it’s SO going to happen.  That card just made itself better.


~ by Layla on March 29, 2014.

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