plot line: ira glass was throwing a swanky party at his new york apartment. i was invited. ira and i were tight friends. ira was gay.
when i walked in the door, he gave me a big hug and handed me a martini. we flirted and hung all over each other as gay men and their lady friends tend to do. he even got behind me and acted as if he was doing that dirty grinding dance that the club kids do. and then took a towel and stuffed it down his pants to act as if he was, um, turned on (because he was gay. and that was funny. we laughed and laughed and i'm pretty sure i even laughed out loud in my sleep).
after our initial silliness, he walked me around and introduced me to other guests. i felt amazingly comfortable at the party (the whole dream was pretty much out of character for me). i socialized and drank martinis and laughed with guests and bantered with mr. glass.
there were multiple tables filled with decadent desserts spaced throughout his apartment. all kinds of chocolaty things. one table had fried wantons that were filled with a warm mixture of chocolate and mint. they were AMAZING. i ate two of them (and felt a little ashamed because there were not many on the table and i knew i should be leaving some for the other guests). someone called out to ira and asked where he got these incredible wantons. ira feigned embarrassment and said he didn't want to say. i rolled my eyes at his pretentiousness and laughed oh, ira. just tell them. i then turned to the inquiring guest and informed her that he got them from p.f. chang's.