We both know my life is full of suck. But lately I’ve been getting some win. Weekday win is the best.
Friday night, Paul and I meet a pretty brown-eyed girl who says she’s Asian but doesn’t look anything ‘cept Irish and offers to buy us a drink. We also meet a group of 22 year olds (course) who ask if I talk to God. I do.
Saturday, I’m on the wrong side of 10PM when I get dressed. No plans but I live in NYC, dammit. There’s always something, right? Who wants in? I’m game, Gio says, and we’re off.
We bump into Burn, who says she’s happy to see me. I tell her I missed her and don’t lie. She says the same and kisses my cheek.
Sunday, the cobwebs fade a bit when Sheridan and I grab brunch round the way. He’s buying another building in Chelsea and asks if I want a piece. I laugh and fill him in.
Him: Private party Tuesday in the Rainbow Room. Beautiful women, open bar, Tina Fey, Alec Baldwin and a bunch of celebs’re gonna be there. You want in?
Me: Are you not listening to me?
Him: (rolling eyes) Please, you’re always my guest. Meet me at 30 Rock at 7. It’s a black & white party. Look good.
I tell him I always look good and he laughs. We go and have the best time. I walk up to a girl and say, My friend’s occupied and so’s yours, let’s keep each other company and make ’em jealous, yeah? She laughs and I take her by the hand.
Her: I love Asian men.
Me: I don’t blame you, we’re lovely.
Her: What’s your name?
Me: Not so fast, let’s see if you can dance first. Cm’on…
She’s beautiful and, it turns out, married. But we all know my head’s not in the game. I tell her she’s a good dancer and that it was nice meeting her. She was. It was. I also give her a hug and tell her my name. Then I’m gone.