In the gutter

My little human needs me

For reasons we don’t need to get into, I had to head to midtown just before 8PM the other night.

So, I hopped onto my scooter and zipped down 9th Avenue to the Penn Station area. I did what I had to do and then headed home.

Was going down West 33rd Street when there was a slight dip in the road, which I hit it perfectly.

And by perfectly, I mean that I went flying through the air – I was literally weightless for a moment. I crashed down into the street gutter, right next to a cop car.

I swear the two cops in the car both looked at me as if I had just messed up their drink order. It was a combination of puzzlement and wonder. They never left the car, and instead just turned away from me and waited for the light to change.

I got up and did a quick visual and mental check of myself. Most of my left side stung; nothing insanely painful but still pain.

I put myself back together again and started to head home as the cops slowly pulled away. I’m guessing they figured I woulda motioned to them in some manner if I was hurt?

It was late enough that I didn’t have to worry too much about a car hitting me. If it was before COVID, I woulda had to worry about a second impact.

When I got home, I realized that my bag was ripped, a chunk of my thigh was scraped open, as were my shoulder, and a solid part of my left palm (click here if you wanna see my hand – which is how my leg looked as well). The rest of my body looked like my elbow, above.

I think nuthin really bad happened because I was wearing a helmet and managed to breakfall correctly.

The thing that bothered me the most was thinking that if I got hurt, the kid would be left alone in the world. That, and my stinging palm, kept me up for a while.

Need to be more mindful of things. My little human needs me.

Podcast Version
Location: at Verdi Square, ranting to a man of God
Mood: still ouch
Music: Maybe it’s in the gutter? (Spotify)
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That was REALLY unexpected

Moments of passion

Me: What are you gonna do when I have hot female fans?
Her: What do you mean, “start?”
Me: (laughing) I’ll take the compliment and the one you gave yourself.

In my last entry, I wrote, “By the time you read this entry, I should have 100,000 views on that video,” referring to the video below.

That was five days ago. It was released on September 7, 2019 and I wrote that entry on September 3, 2020, so it took 361 days to hit 100,000 views.

As of today, September 8th, 2020, it hit over half a million – 539,240 views as of this exact moment I’m writing this. That means it somehow got 439,240 additional views in five days.

That’s insane. I honestly don’t have any rhyme or reason for it, but you know me, I’ll take any weekday win I can get.

On a much more mundane note, I spent a good part of Labor Day weekend working but Mouse stayed over for part of it.

I swear my memory is getting worse and worse these days.

Case in point, I tossed a book off the sofa to the floor so she had a place to sit.  No more than 10 minutes later, I asked her if she saw it.

Mouse: It was cast aside in a moment of passion!
Me: What? Really?
Her: No. Are you serious? It’s right there.
Me: Jeez, what is wrong with me?!

While she was here, she asked me for some legal advice, so I gave her my honest opinion.

Her: Oh, you get a kiss for that.
Me: Man, law school was totally worth it.

Actually, we were both pretty busy with work and personal matters but we did manage to head downtown via the Hudson River Greenway again.

Coincidentally, we ended up riding right past Lviv’s place.

Besides that excursion, we didn’t really do much else, although I did cook a ton because she’s been on this new diet for her health.

She’d never seen The Amazing Race so we randomly picked a season and started watching it.

She got really into it, which I expected, since she’s such an adrenaline junkie, which isn’t my thing at all.

I suppose that’s a major reason why we broke up in the first place.

Well, that and things like this conversation.

Her: Whenever I see white suburban moms, I think of you.
Me: I would be offended if that weren’t accurate.

Podcast Version
Location: in front of my computer from dawn to dusk
Mood: busy
Music: I’m such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath (Spotify)
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Blogarama - Observations Blogs

Travelogue: Museum miles

You’re my main company

Me: You should bring her to the Museum of Natural History. I once took a girl there on a five-hour date. Oh, wait…

Someone I know met a girl several women recently and was trying to figure out where to take them (FWIW, he has the antibodies too). Told him that I loved museums before I remembered they’re a no go. 

But I got nostalgic and, after one really sleepless night, I hopped the scooter to go around town. There weren’t as many people out.

Any really.

Went to the Natural History first. Was last there in September 2018 when Gradgirl was in town but she didn’t want me to mention it for reasons I finally understand.

After the AMNH, went across the park…

…to 97th Street and then down Museum Mile past the Cooper Hewitt…

…to the Guggenheim…

…through the trees of the Met…

…past the Met…

…down Fifth Avenue, which was still pretty deserted at this time,…

…and then across the park again.

The Whitney Museum moved, which is probably for the best for my mental health.

Made it back home and fell asleep, dreaming of the other side again.

This lockdown is  a once in a lifetime thing and you and my demons are my main company so I figure I’d just show you what I see here.

That girl I went on a five-hour date with wasn’t my person and I wasn’t hers. She’s happily married with two beautiful kids. I’m happy for her.

Family’s everything.

(Earlier…)

Him: Are you gonna be ok there by yourself?
Me: Define, “ok.”
Him: Logan, stop fucking around.
Me: Don’t worry. I’d never leave the boy in this shitty world alone. I just need to sleep it off. I’ll be better tomorrow.

Location: my empty apartment, post shawarmas
Mood: under pressure and hating this fucking month
Music: Why can’t we give love that one more chance? (Spotify)
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Giving me a chance

I hate May

Me: Man, it’s been ages. I gotta ask, so are you gay or bisexual now?
Jaerik: (laughing) Gay. I told you this about six years ago, it wasn’t a long conversation, but I told you.
Me: Sorry, my memory is so bad these days after everything that’s happened. The last I remember is your female ex? I have no recollection of you coming out.
Him: Ah, yeah, I told you. It’s fine. You’ve been through a lot.
Me: You know what my first thought when I found out? It was: “Thank god. The last thing I need as competition in life is a single, attractive former male model that’s making bank as a lead programmer for Amazon. As a straight man, thank you for being gay and giving guys like me a chance.”
Him: (laughs)

Now that I’ve gotten the coronavirus under control, I’ve been catching up with people I’ve not spoken to in ages.

I’ve also been meeting a lot of new people for reasons that aren’t really important. Although, honestly, being a guy with antibodies during a lockdown is…interesting.

On that note, the grey-eyed writer has a dog. I can’t do dogs in my apartment. It’s one of my rules.

And that’s why I hate dating in NYC. The disappointment is one thing but disappointing other human beings is another.

Then again, some disappointments are things you don’t even see coming.

Me: Are you here for the COVID test? I just got it.
Girl in a green mask: Really? How long was the wait?
Me: 30 minutes from where you are to the door, then 30 mins inside, and 15 minutes in the exam room?
Her: Oh, that’s great. Did you find out yet?
Me: Yup, just last night. I’m positive for the antibodies. It’s weird getting a medical exam and being excited for a positive result.
Her: (laughs, pulls down mask) You’re funny, what’s your name?
Me: Logan. And you?
Her: Alison.
Me: (nodding slowly) Of course it is. (stepping back) Well, it was lovely meeting you, Alison. I hope everything goes your way.
Her: Oh…
Me: As an aside, you have a lovely name. I think that “Alison” is just about the prettiest name there is. I wish you every good thing.


It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.

Then it’s my Alison’s birthday.

And then it’s the shittiest day of the year.

I hate May. I hate May more than I can express.

Podcast Version: Giving me a Chance
Location: my empty apartment, now with tons of pizza
Mood: fulla pizza but still very empty
Music: I try, I really do (Spotify)
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Logan’s 47

Human Interaction

My gym’s shutting down our location for a number of reasons, COVID-19 being one. Ideally, it’s only temporary.

The owner posted that he, his wife, and Chad would be cleaning the place up that afternoon so I decided to finally venture out.

Took my electric scooter down Broadway and it was glorious. The city’s still mostly empty.

Made it to the gym in less than 30 mins. Woulda been sooner but I kept taking pictures and gawking at things. I’d not been outta the house in a meaningful way for over a month.

Walking into the gym felt exceedingly normal.

Owner: Logan! How you doing? Hey, do you smell something?
Me: (cautiously) Yes? What is that?
Him: OK, right before you walked in, I found this bottle in this locker. So, I shook it…
Me: Oh god…

Chad was there along with the other owner helping out.

Chad: How’re you?
Me: (laughing) I think this is the first time I’ve heard my own voice in about two days. Definitely the first time I’ve had any real human interaction in weeks.

Presently other people showed up.

Me: I gotta ask, did you find a bat in your apartment?
Her: (laughs) Yes. I’m the cause of this whole thing!
Me: I need to know more.

I’d gone out after a few minutes to get beer for the guys but I left my face mask at the gym, not thinking it’d be too much of an issue.

Store 1 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: S’ok. I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit.

Store 2 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: While I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 3 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYour PeopleBeforeShort-termProfit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 4 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: (walking quickly past guard to beer section) WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYourPeopleBeforeShort- termProfit,IJustWannaGetASix-pack. Here’s a 20, keep the change.

I’m not (terribly) proud.

Owner: (looking at beer) Why’d you get watery-beer for us?
Me: First of all, I’m watching my weight, second of all, shut up, you wouldn’t believe what I went through to get this beer.

Just shopping made me run out of breath. This sickness really took a lot outta me.

More people came and left. Everyone practiced safe social distancing.

Soon, it was my turn to go.

Had an interesting ride back but it’s getting late so I’ll tell you about that some other time.

Right around when I got in the door, got a message from the owner:

Him: You classy bastard. You left those last two beers here. That shows good breeding and manners. You’d be surprised how many people don’t have that.
Me: Ha, really? Who takes the last two beers they brought for the group? My parents didn’t raise me that way, homie.
Him: You’d be amazed.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost tripped over a box on my doorstep.

Mouse sent me a gift for my birthday. She hadn’t contacted me in weeks, not until I got sick, anyway. Suppose that’s her story to tell.

I picked up the box and brought it home. When I opened the door, I yelled out:

Hey, I’m back!

But got nuthin in return. Harold’s still not speaking to me and the boy’s still away. Still, hope – and madness – springs eternal.

I’m 47 years-old by the time you read this sentence.

One, holy shitballs.

Two, hooray.

Location: my empty apartment, now with a box and lots of taco wrappers
Mood: empty also
Music: been roaming around, always looking down (Spotify)
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Isolation Days 9-10: Seeing the doc

First human interaction

As I said in my last entry, went to sleep on night 8 with a massive headache and an aching jaw.

When I woke up the next morning, Day 9, I had a terrible earache, which was oddly comforting as I was worried it was something else, like COVID-19, or Sleepy Logan was doing stuff again.

Rang my brother to ask him what I should do. I’ve never had an earache in my entire life.

Him: Normally, I’d tell you to go to the medemerge but this is a unique situation.
Me: Lemme call them and see how busy they are.

Turns out they were completely empty. Took me less than three minutes to see the doc.

Her: Well, you definitely have an infection in your ear. Nothing a few drops can’t help. Can someone help you put them in?
Me: Nope, you’re the first meaningful human interaction I’ve had in days.
Her:  Oh, I’m sorry.
Me; Yeah, me too.

Funny thing’s that I put up a pic of me on Instagram and people thought it was my eye, when I was just rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

My eye was much worse a few weeks ago: click here if you’re not squeamish. If you are, absolutely do not.

Went to my local pharmacy to pick up the script but they were closed so I went to pick up the peanut butter I needed for later. My local supermarket’s now selling paper bags cause plastic bags are outlawed here in NY, these days.

When I went back to the pharmacy, waited behind a barrier of tape to get my meds.

The woman at the counter was just about to hand me my bag when the pharmacist in the back – who’d been speaking in increasingly strident tones – started yelling into the phone: “No! Do NOT come in. Wait outside. Sir. Sir! SIR! Do not come in! We’re locking the door now.”

With that, he sprang from the rear of the drugstore to the front and started yelling at the guys in the front to shut everything down.

This whole time, the cashier is continuing to hold my bag, despite my asking for it a dozen times.

Me: (leans over barrier and grabs bag from cashier’s hand) I’ll be leaving now.
Her: Hey! That was rude.
Me: (walking away) So was making me wait for no reason when – clearly – stuff’s about to go down, miss.

As I walked to the front, a crowd had gathered outside because they locked the door. They opened the door to let me out. Everyone outside was at least 70 years old.

Me: (exiting) Did they tell you what’s going on?
Old lady: No. They just locked the door.
Me: (walking away from crowd) They locked the door for a reason. I wouldn’t be standing around here or going in for at least the next hour, if I were you. Jus’ say’n…

And just like that, they all scattered.

Been having drinks with friends, online. My nightly drink card’s pretty full but not everyone’s willing to let me put up pics.

Still, you’ve met my buddy, Bryson, before.

Me: Good god, look at that beard.
Him: (laughing) I hate it but the girls (his daughters and wife) love it.
Me: You’re black and Asian; black don’t crack and Asian don’t raisin. You’re doing it all wrong, you look like your age. (later) Hey, can you send me a pic of this for my blog?
Him: Sure
Me: (later) Jesus Christ, look at the size of my head!
Him: (laughs)

Had to make that pic smaller so my enormous noggin didn’t take up your entire screen. Also drank with my buddy, Paolo, whom you see in the pic above.

Him: What are you drinking?
Me: Grapefruit beer.
Him: Not rum? Wait, that sounds like you.
Me: I got it for Mouse but she’s not around so I’m drinking it. Man, that hair is weirding me out.
Him: Can’t get to a barber, what with the kid and this lockdown.
Me: Got it. Suppose I’ll be rocking that look myself, soon enough.

Speaking of Mouse, one of her friends, whom I’ve only ever met once, reached out to me to see if I – and the kid – was ok. It was really rather sweet.

Alison always believed that the key to anyone’s heart is through their kids and she was totally right.

On that note, two other women from my past also contacted me just to see how I was. Combining the three convos so this entry doesn’t drag on forever.

Her: How is your little trouble maker? I’m sure he also misses you terribly.
Me: He’s great! We Skype like this, daily.
Her: I’m sorry about what happened with your wife. If nothing else, she was lucky to have you as a husband.
Me: I wonder about that sometimes.
Her: Trust me, it’s awful out there. I’m seeing someone that…(trails off) Well, now’s not the time to be alone, Logan. (looking around, laughing) Which I am.
Me: (nodding) You and me both, lady. At least you have a dog.

Location: a still almost empty UWS apartment building
Mood: inebriated and fulla cookies
Music: If we have each other then we’ll both be fine (Spotify)
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Isolation Days 7-8: Keeping busy

Nobody believes it, or Mr. Gray

Been waking up late – after 9AM most mornings – but also going to bed late. Mainly working on projects that I’ve been meaning to do but haven’t been able to because of time and the kid.

That’s what I tell people, at least.

Closer to the truth is what I told you about years ago: Everybody knows they’re going to die, but nobody believes it.

I do what most people do when Death makes himself known – keep myself busy and try to ignore him as best I can.

Household stuff

      • Did my taxes – right before it was announced that we had until July 15th. Just as well.
      • Filled out the census.
      • Patched, sanded, and repainted a hole in my bathroom.
      • Assembled some new dining room chairs and tossed the old one – the one, above, on the left is the old one, the one on the right is new. Need to fix the bottom of the new ones.
      • Assembled a new entryway seat and tossed the old one.
      • Collected all my knives I had hidden around the apartment (more on that in another entry).
      • Practiced doing what I do with said knives.
      • Cleaned my oven and then baked a ton of low-carb cookies for myself (more on that tomorrow)
      • Dusted. Oh, the dusting…

I think the reason it took so long to toss out the chairs and benches was because I remember Alison and I putting them together, together. Now I did it alone. It made it harder than it should have, for a multitude of reasons.

But one thing that she firmly believed in was that things had to be useful.

If they weren’t, she insisted that they be tossed. If not for her, I’m certain that I would be (a worse) hoarder. So, I did take solace in that.

Still, it was…difficult.

Technology stuff

      • Converted my wired network from a hodgepodge of Cat4, Cat5, and Cat5e cable to pure Cat5e. No, I didn’t have any Cat6 and I find it too rigid to work with.
        • Used to know how to terminate ethernet cable from memory but I knew I’d forget, so that printout you see above I made 20 years ago at my old job at CNET. Kept it all this time.
      • Upgraded my mixed powerline network from 100mb to gigabit (!).
      • Laid a mesh network over my current 801.11ac network, backhauling upstream data through the aforementioned Cat5e network.
        • As a sidenote, my internal speeds went from a laughable 10-17MB/s to consistently above 100MB/s. I’ve never seen that ever before, ever.

Went to sleep on night 8 with a massive headache and an aching jaw. I felt like exactly what I was afraid of might happen, was happening – I was getting sick by myself.

I’ll tell you about more about that tomorrow.

For now, I will say that I had to go out because: (1) I needed to see a doctor and (2) I was out of peanut butter.

Hard to say which one was the priority.

Ended up buying five pounds of peanut butter, which should last me the week. The quarter and rum are there for size comparison.

Had both the peanut butter and the rum for dinner tonight.

I wrote this watching the CBS weekend news. In the segment on Italy, the magnitude of what this virus does didn’t really hit me until he said the following at minute 1:17:

The cases that don’t make it end up here, with the morgues overflowing…Every person died alone. Without family or friends.

It’s that gaping yaw of existential loneliness that I told you about earlier. Everybody knows they’re going to die, yeah?

I wonder if I’ll die alone.

Man, I miss having a family. My own, that is.

The boy sent me that image over Skype. If you’re with family, you’re lucky. Because I have to love someone through a television screen.

Not gonna lie, I’m jealous. I used to have my own family, you see. For all of five days.

And now, during this historically crazy moment in time, I find myself completely alone with just Harold, five pounds of peanut butter, and 3/4 of a liter of rum.

Well, it’s not altogether  bad, I suppose.

Location: an empty UWS apartment building but with killer network speeds
Mood: inebriated
Music: you’ve been on my mind, honey (Spotify)
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Isolation Days 5-6: A gaping yaw

Getting outta Dodge…again

Him: Where are we going?
Me: (as upbeat as possible) To see your aunt!
Him: Yay!

The redheaded babysitter and my regular babysitter have been the only company that the boy and I’ve had the last four days.

Because I manage my building, I realized that – with the possible exception of two people on one of the upper floors – there was no one else in my building.

Right around when I came to that realization, my sister-in-law called to check in on us and said that there was a chance that the mayor would be shutting down all non-essential travel. While I read that this wasn’t likely, I still felt this really cold dread.

You see, if anything happened to me, the boy would be all alone in the building. I could fall down the stairs (again), cut my my head open (again), get sick and pass out (again), or any number of things.

That’s when I hit the grief button (again). If Alison was here, at least it would be the three of us. But I didn’t feel safe being alone with just the two of us so we got outta Dodge (again).

Me: We’re out the door. What do you need from me, if anything?
Her: Just bring some extra clothes and I’ll bring them to my parents. Who knows how long he’ll be there?
Me: OK. We’re already on the subway.

I was about the same age as the boy when the Blackout of 1977 happened. I remember that my parents didn’t seem like themselves that day, even all these years later.

Didn’t want the boy to hear or feel any anxiety as I took him out of the city, so I played a version of “lava” with him to try to not have him touch anything. That was fine while it lasted.

Him: I’m tired of this game.
Me: (sighing)
Him: You’re doing (imitates a sigh) again.
Me: (nodding)

We were the only ones in our car.

I only saw my sister for a moment as I buckled the kid into the child seat and dashed off to catch the train back.

Me: Please try to be good, ok?
Him: OK. Bye, papa! (waves)

Told Pac that I’d support his mom’s business – Noona Noodles – while things were sketch.

Me: Should I head to your mom’s?
Him: Nah, she’s not picking up.
Me: Actually, fuck it, I’m here. Lemme see if she’s open.

She was – place was dead quiet. I was the only customer in the whole joint. Picked up some Vietnamese pho and a 40 on the way back, for no particular reason.

Woulda picked up more food but it’s just me. It was delicious.

Tried to be as productive as I could: Did my taxes, submitted my census form, and finally got around to cleaning up some digital files.

Found some pics of my family before everything went to shit. That’s an entry for another day.

On my last one pound jar of peanut butter to boot. Went through two jars in five days.

I already miss the boy. But he’s safer there than in an empty NYC apartment building with just me. Growing up with no friends, I’m used to being by my lonely. But this feels different. Finding those pictures didn’t help.

It’s a gaping yaw of existential loneliness that only comes with profound moments of grief that I can’t quite seem to explain.

Her: What are you going to do?
Me: Seeing as I’m here in this building by myself, I’m going to go to the back room and randomly scream for a bit.
Her: (laughs)

Location: an empty UWS apartment building
Mood: inebriated
Music: standin’ out there alone. A yearning, yeah, and it’s real
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Isolation Days 1-4: At least Sharon’s living it up

Heading to Chinaworld

Him: What did you get in Chinaworld?

Having been through 9/11, a couple of blackouts, a hurricane here and there, and just random emergencies, gotta say that this pandemic is something entirely new for me.

Spent most of the past weekend with the redheaded babysitter and the boy. She’s an actress so she literally lost all her gigs at once and I just found out today that the boy’s classes are cancelled until the end of April.

With her help, I was able to head back down to Chinatown in order to pick up some more supplies and support the Chinese community at the same time.

So, I hopped a nearly empty train – dressed as I’ve always wanted to dress in the city as a (not-so) closeted germaphobe – and picked up some stuff. One thing I made sure to get was some frozen dumplings from this hole-in-the-wall that I love.

Unfortunately, it was only after I returned home that I found out that the boy’s classes were cancelled. I immediately regretted my decision to only buy a single bag of frozen dumplings and only one bag of groceries.

Sitter: (laughing) I told him you went to Chinatown.
Him: Honestly, I think I prefer the name, Chinaworld.

Everything’s been a whirlwind of activity, mainly because everything’s taking longer and longer to do.

This is my local no frills grocery store, which had a line, the length of which I’ve never seen before.

TBH, there’s never a line of any sort here.

And I had to call both the NYC Dept of Finances and NYC Dept of Buildings for work; that took the entire morning – because you have to go through the 311 number for the city and the hold times were cray – and I eventually gave up.

With the kiddo being as young as he is, evenings are difficult because there’s nothing that we can both watch together.

Him: Why don’t we watch the news?
Me: The world’s a disaster and we’re surrounded by cretins; there, I just saved us 30 minutes.
Him: Cretins!
Me: No, don’t…nevermind…

On that note, I accidentally got an order confirmation for a woman named Sharon in Iowa who seems be living it up by prepping for isolation very differently from me and – gotta say – I’m slightly jelly.

Well, if nuthin else, Sharon’s living it up…

Location: surrounded by cretins and an awesome little boy
Mood: beat
Music: For a second, I thought you loved me
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Leveling up

Of course

Him: Hey
Me: Hola! How are you?
Him: Doing well! I’m in the city now. Thought you might have time.

I got a text the other day from a friend-of-a-friend and was without the boy so the next thing you know, I’m downtown near my buddy Pac’s place and getting some Vietnamese food and discussing some business.

Me: Do you want to get a drink?
Him: Sure.

We go next door to Whiskey Tavern, an old haunt of mine where I met one of the schoolteachers, and it’s packed so we head over to Pier A instead.

Struck up a conversation with the girlie sitting next to me.

Me: Sorry, are you Asian?
Her: I’m half. My last name’s Godwin.
Me: (later) I have to ask, how old are you?
Her: 23.
Me: Of course you are.
Her: How old are you?
Me: You’ll have to guess,.
Her: 29?
Me: I’m so not. But it was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Godwin.

We bounced up to Ferns in the East Village where we met up with several of his co-workers.

Him: How do I only work a couple of days a week?
Me: (shrugging) Have the people you love die and leave you money. Trust me, I’d rather be in your shoes than mine. (shaking head) Sorry, that went dark. I should go.

I politely made my leave with my buddy and his friends.

Me: It was a pleasure meeting you all. (put on my red leather jacket)
Her: Whoa, Logan – you just seriously leveled up!
Me: (laughing) Wait, you haven’t seen the lining yet.

I bought the jacket when Alison got pregnant with the boy and we were close to giving birth. It was a present to myself; custom made with a custom lining.

Never wore it until six months after my dad passed. By then, I was so tired of black.

In any case, I left because I wanted to see someone.

Me: How about the hooka place near Solas?
Her: OK.

The waiter there recognized me immediately – a red leather jacket does come in handy – and we had a few drinks.

Afterwards, we headed over to a local Japanese udon shop, Udon West.

Me: Hungry?
Her: Starving! But I’m a pescatarian.
Me: (nodding) Of course you are.

It was late by the time she and I headed over to my place.

Her: We’re just friends, you know.
Me: Heavens, of course.

There’s more but that’s all I wanted to tell you for now.

The thing about living in Manhattan is that there always seems to be something to distract you from everything, right around the corner.

I could use some distractions.

Location: earlier today, playing volleyball with a balloon and the boy
Mood: thoughtful
Music: you’re the only reason I go downtown on the weekend

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