An insanely expensive restaurant on the Upper East Side. The decor is a mixture of chi-chi and rustic, with swagged silk curtains, handwritten menus and pale rosa, -de-rosa tablecloths decorated with arrangements of moss, twigs and hideous exotic flowers. The clientele is young, wealthy and confident, dressed in the height of late-eighties style: pouffy Lacroix dresses, slinky Alaïa, Armani power suits.
Christian Bale’s beauty cannot be put into words, but I will try.
That which does not kill Christian Bale only makes him hotter.
Before I expound, let me state for the record that I am a fiercely heterosexual man. I have engaged one woman to marry me and spend every morning on the subway attempting to engage several others in mutual eye contact. And it’s not because I am in any way nefarious. I am loyal; I just want women to acknowledge me in some small way because I find them mesmerizing. Achingly beautiful.