Please, don't do it in that little café where you've shared so much gnocchi. Drop the bomb underground over a dozen Pappasquash at GRAND CENTRAL OYSTER BAR. No one you know will be there, and the bustling atmospherered checked tablecloths, fat men with napkin bibswill discourage hysterics. Best of all, you can be on the 4, 5, 6, 7 or S train, or even back home to Westchester, in less than two minutes. Bonus: the whisper gallery created by the archways just outside, so you can mumble your pathetic excuses from 20 feet away.