If Only I Had On Manolos…
In a saucily serendipitous twist of lunchtime fate this glorious day, my path crossed with HBO’s original ungettable bachelor. You might know him as the man who took a curly haired blonde for Schezuan on their first date. Or as the pig who dumped her for a Ralph Lauren model. Or as the rebellious object of that curly haired blonde’s affair affections. But most of all, you might remember his Parisian trip to woo her once and for all, saving her from a lifetime of pretending to find Mikhail Baryshnikov’s art installations interesting.
I, though, will always remember him as the salt-and-pepper haired man I passed on 48th St. while booking it for an afternoon avocado roll. As I walked past him, I couldn’t help but wonder: where is he, Chris Noth, going? Why is he daring to brave NYC’s epicenter of tourism on such a hopping Spring day? But before I could walk into him and drop my purse a la Carrie in The Show of Our Generation’s Pilot, he was gone. Alas, our Midtown Manhattan love was as long-lasting as his character’s toleration for Natasha’s beige walls.
But one thing’s for certain: his real-life good looks? Well, they were as Big as his moniker.
