This is the girliest thing I will ever write*
Hilary and I just had a moment where we realized we had spent the last few weeks independently admiring the same cute guy. This guy is the proprietor of Martin’s Pretzels in the Union Square Farmer’s Market (but only on certain days, we are not crushing on a 70 year old pretzel farmer). Of course, I am a kept woman, so my crush is harmless. She, knowing her adorableness and insatiable man-ppetite (*I mean, come on), will inevitably go on a date with him. I live vicariously.
But the most striking thing about Martin (I have assumed these are his pretzels) is how incredibly Sex and the City his existence is. Only on Sex and the City is every random street man impossibly dreamy. In the actual New York City, every random street man is seconds away from publicly masturbating. So Candace Bushnell, you should be psyched. Martin over here in Union Square is finally legitimizing your vision of New York City.
