He's a banker. 'Nuff said.

Whenever anyone asks where my husband is, I reply with, "He's a Wall Street banker."

Here, that's 'nuff said.

Essentially New Yorkers understand that when you're a banker, that's pretty much all you are.

I ALMOST feel guilty for having a job that allows me to take a painting or knitting class or join a basketball team. Brent's days off - which are only sometimes Saturdays and Sundays are spent sleeping in and watching sports while eating breakfast and lunch before taking a nap that lasts until dinnertime.

So it's definitely a bonus when I can get Brent to actually want to leave the apartment to do something fun and New York-y with me. I often forget that he's usually not at home, and therefore enjoys being at home because that means it's time to relax.

But once a month, I can get him out to do our famous "one-night stand" where we do something together that we've never done before. In New York, that's easy to do.

Tonight's one-night stand was pretty bland and straightforward, but it was an excuse to get dressed up! I've often gone to a nearby wine bar, Bocca di Bacco, to sit at the bar and enjoy a glass of wine, but I've never tried anything on their menu. Brent suggested it at the urging of a colleague, and I was more than happy to oblige.

Unfortunately, Brent ordered the steak, and was unwilling to share more than a few bites. After taking my first one, I would have done the same thing because the pieces MELTED in my mouth. I like steak, and I can honestly say it was one of the best (bites of) steak I've ever had.

For me, though, my prosciutto-wrapped white asparagus with a poached egg and brown sauce stuffed me because it was so good that I didn't stop eating it until it was gone. And their wine, which takes up three pages on a standard-sized menu, didn't disappoint either, as it never does.

Afterward, we went on a walk down 57th street, which is a staple for Brent and I. Another staple is his asking me if I'm going to make it because when I dress up, I invariably wear high heels. And while I look good standing in them, it's another story when I actually attempt to walk in them. And living in New York City, the land of pedestrians, it was disappointing to realize that while every single one of my shoes is cute, not many are meant for walking longer distances than from the car in the garage to inside the house.

And I'd go shopping for shoes, but I live in NYC. Like I could afford them.