Mafia, and French Men and Montauk, Oh My

In early June, Marco and I met a french interior designer on the Golf Course, and, since I can't remember his name, let's call him Ouioui (thats, wee wee for you non-french speaking people). Don't worry, I don't speak French either. I think it is a befitting name because he was a rather small man in stature and very petite. After golfing with him, he invited us to play again with him and his girlfriend. We enjoyed a second nice round of golf. It was on our second golf outing that they invited us to a party that they were having in Sag Harbor. For those of you that don't know, Sag Harbor is like the sleepy sister of the Hamptons. It is a very nice and upscale place but not the hangout of rich and famous pop stars. It is the likes of the Billy Joels of the world along (he has a really cool house there, another story)with regular people. Marco and I thought it would be really fun to go to the party since we rarely get invited to go East for something like that. We decided to make a weekend out of it after a very nice friend offered up their summer house there to us for the night.

Our first stop was Montauk. I had never been to the very end of Long Island and I wanted to go - so we visited the very tip and saw the lighthouse, then headed to a Lobster Shack for an overpriced lobster roll which was good but wasn't 18$ good! Then it was time for the party.

When we arrived, we discovered that we were the youngest couple there - but no big deal, we could make due. The house was huge, lavish, expensive. The woman who owned the place had each room decorated with a large canvas painting of herself. One with her and her dogs, one with her on her beach chair, one of her on her sofa, etc. Very very strange.

So then we get to the part with me and my New York ignorance. Marco is talking to this guy who looks like he is Sonny from the Godfather movie - straight out of the 70s. Dark hair, out of date glasses, Italian. He proceeds to tell Marco that he is retired and plays golf, to which Marco is surprised. He said, "wow, how did you retire so soon and are able to play golf" and the man then says that he is in his seventies. He doesn't look a day over 55. So then that would lead you to ask yourself, how is this man looking so young and what did he do for a living - which is exactly what Marco asks. The man pauses, thinks, and then says in a thick NY accent, "I own several private clubs in the city." Marco says, "Oh, so then your golf game is good" and changes the subject. But me, no not me. I say, "What kind of clubs??" I'm thinking that it is some kind of cigar club or something, right? Marco changes the subject again. And I say, "No, I want to know what kind of clubs - is it a night club??" And Marco kind of pushes me away and then starts back with the golf conversation. At this point I'm a little annoyed. But then, he pulls me aside when he can get away and says that the man is a mobster and to stop asking him questions. Whoops! Now I know the code language. A little too late for that.

The night got a little more interesting. Mr. Ouioui decided that he wanted to hit on me, which I really don't understand considering my husband was right there and he is about 3x larger than him and could pummel him into the ground with just his thumb. I told Marco and we left. Very strange, very strange indeed.

Quite an interesting weekend to say the least, but we both learned something: That there are just circles and people that we really don't fit in with. While we do like to go outside of our comfort zone and have the experiences to better understand what we want and see different perspectives and lifestyles, we are glad we have the choice in who we spend our time with.