judging a book

I have been learning quite the lesson in not to ‘judge books by their covers’ over the past few days. First it was the dodgy ‘massage’ place (I use this term loosely because I think it was more, in fact, a nail salon) in Chelsea I went to because I have been having the absolute WORST back pain since the long-haul flight. I was ushered by the Asian owner of the salon down some dodgy back stairs and into a dirty room with a massage table. There was a woman waiting inside who couldn’t speak any English and required me to circle the ‘areas of pain’ on a drawing of the human body. This experience (where at one point, I did think I could be murdered beneath the nail salon where no one would hear me scream) ended up being one of the best massages I have ever had!

And to further prove my point, when I say the name ‘Hector’ to you and describe this person as being quite handy with electronics and carpentry, do you not think of a 60 year old Greek man with body hair issues? WRONG. The owner of the apartment sent around his friend Hector to fix the cable (it hasn’t been working since I arrived) who is “good with that kind of stuff”. I open the door and standing there is literally the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Stunned, I open the door and offered him a drink (he declined because I think he thought I meant alcoholic…I meant water…it was about 35 degrees outside today). He fixed the cable, and I also had my first ‘networking’ experience in NYC when I was talking about how fashion week is coming up and he mentioned he could try get me some tickets to an after party since he works for an advertising agency…! Lesson in no judgements has very much been learned.

I’m off to sleep before the big day tomorrow…volunteering at New York Fashion Week! Alarm is on for 6.30am…it’s going to be a big day…