If you're from New York, you probably know that I'm referring to a restaurant.
However, I admit, I also like to use the word spice to refer to the presence of romantic chemistry between two individuals – or the lack there of. More often than not I have stated that there's no spice. In fact, I don't think I've ever used the word to say there is, because spice isn't something that frequents my life. Although, this year, I believe that to be changing because there have been at least 3 occasions where I would say there was spice. But the spice was short-lived, or perhaps never developed into the potential that we both knew might be there. I'm not sure why, but that's life, and I'm no longer disappointed if spice evolves into silence rather than romance, because I'm finally convinced that if the spice veers away, then it simply wasn't meant to be. My Calvinist exboyfriend would attribute it to God's sovereignty. I often find talk of John Calvin, John Piper and not John’s but rather God’s sovereignty to be rather annoying. But I do think that it's good for keeping perspective – when it comes to relationships or other. Because it reminds you that you're not completely in control, and that there is a God who is bigger than any situation or life circumstance.
But tonight I'm not talking about spice, as in chemistry, but rather I'm talking about a Thai food restaurant. I was first introduced to Spice in 2003 when my friend Troy Yeager and I decided to roadtrip from the Midwest to NYC just days before Christmas. Our soundtrack for the drive was The Strokes, and as we listened to the CD we both confessed that we were intrigued by guitar players of the opposite sex that were much too young for consideration. We also talked about our long term crushes that we would both see in New York during our stay. Troy wanted to proposed to his while we were in the city; I thought that was a great idea, but his friend Todd suggested that perhaps he ought to be dating Stephanie before he pops the question. That conversation took place late at night on some bridge in Central Park. I can’t recall which bridge, but I do recall that both Todd and Troy pissed under it before we headed back to wherever it is that we were going.
Troy married his crush last summer. Mine, I've determined, will never notice me as being something potentially more than a friend. And in all honesty, I don't think I can refer to him as a crush anymore. I realized this not too long ago when I opted for sleep over talking to him on the phone. Regardless, he still makes me smile; I think he always will. Some people are like that. Actually, I hope I’m like that to a lot of people, or if I’m not, then I hope at least some of my writing is.
But back to Spice, tonight I went to the Spice located near Union Square with a friend of mine from LA. She has quite the career - one that takes her all over the world on seemingly fabulous adventures that, she told me, aren’t always as glamorous as they might seem. I think I understood, or at least I tried. I won't say much about her job because she is writing her own story, and I'll let her be the one to tell it. But I will say, it was great to meet up with a familiar face and I’m thankful for the time and conversation we were able to share together.