The time I went to Bowlmor Lanes in Times Square Pt. 1

A weekday night out with old friends

RE Mike dropped me a line. Panasonic was having a party at Bowlmor Lanes in Times Square to launch their new Lumix DMC-GM1 camera and he and another buddy of ours were going.

We met up for a quick drink beforehand and were soon there. After settling in, lots of photographers showed up.

Me: Who are they? (pointing to the group above)
Him: The cast of American’s Next Top Model.
Me: Cool. Be right back.

As I said, I have a camera and little to no shame.

Me: This is like old times.
Him: It’s been a while.

Me: Hey, there’re cheerleaders over there.
Him: Those are the Jets Flight Crew.
Me: Cool. Be right back.

It wasn’t all fun and games, though.

Me: So how have you been?
Him: (pause) My father just passed away.
Me: Why didn’t you call me?
Him: I don’t know. I just...
Me: (later) Well, there’s not much for us to do but get seriously lit. Shall we?

It was an open bar with food as our old days so a lot of it was hazy.

He’s an old friend so when old friends want to drink to help overcome the blows, then we drink.

Because we have friends and readily available alcohol for just such an occasion.

Me: (raising glass) Here’s to your dad, man.

 

Location: home, getting ready for an important appointment at 3PM
Mood: concerned
Music: of course it’s gonna get better. Gonna get better
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Stinky lunch

Location: my steaming apartment
Mood: relaxed
Music: get-tough girls turn into goldmines, but oh

Tribeca NYC

Been busier with work this past month than quite a while. Running all over the island meeting with clients and hustling for scratch. Although my definition of scratch doesn’t really compare much with that of my friends.

Case in point, just yesterday, met up with Sheridan for lunch on onea the hottest daysa the week. Am constantly amazed at what he manages to get himself into.

Me: What’re we talking about?
Him: 420.
Me: Thousand?
Him: Million. My cut’s $600,000.
Me: Why am I buying you lunch? You should be buying me lunch!

My own life’s decidedly less interesting.

Her: What’s that smell?
Me: Some salmon I had in the fridge.
Her: (shaking head) Why don’t you have a TV show and call it, “Logan eats the worst smelling food in the world.”
Me: I’d totally do that.
Although I did splurge and pick up the iphone 4.

My buddies mock me cause I put plastic on the cover and have a protective case around my phones. But the iPhone 4 cost me $199 and I sold my old phone for $250.

Now if only the damn thing’d stop dropping my calls…

YASYCTAI: Go for the big score. (time/2 pts)

Doing it for the Crackers

There’s always something waiting around the corner

Remember that deal that Sheridan wanted to know if I wanted in on? He closed it with RE Mike and it was just reported in the NY Post. I’m super happy for him but…damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

It’s the third deal that Sheridian and I didn’t do together. The first, I made bank but he missed; the second we both missed. This one? $15.85 million. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

Hate being this poor. Hate always worrying about scratch. Was about to have a pity party when I read that Ruslana Korshunova jumped outta her Manhattan building in a suicide. Stopped me cold. She was wealthy, beautiful, successful…and 20.

What troubles would be so big at 20 that you’d swan dive off a 9th floor building when, externally, you got it all? I dunno. Hate suicide stories.

Something’s always waiting round the corner. True, sometimes it’s fail, but sometimes it’s win. Regardless, you hope and you hope. Cause, statistically speaking, 10 outta 10 of us are gonna get our tickets punched – so why’d you ever wanna rush the matter? It’ll come sooner than you know it.

Admittedly, it’s hard to go from caviar and crackers to just crackers. But really, I got no complaints; don’t have enough fingers to count all my blessings.

Plus, when a girlie says she wants to spend some time these days, I’m (fairly) confident she does it for the company.

I mean, she’s certainly not doing it for the crackers, yeah?

800.SUICIDE / 800.784.2433

Location: 21:44 yest, getting whacked w/a stick in the UWS
Mood: sad
Music: and it breaks my heart, it breaks my heart

It’s me

Location: 9:10AM, kitchen making coffee & eggs
Mood: busy
Music: I am not an ill-willed person I do not wish bad things for you

Since I lost my phone, I ran through all my old messages.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come…
Mr. Logan, this is…

Hey, it’s me…

The last one stopped me cold.

In response to the person that sent me an email a while back, the answer is: 24 hours. Sometimes less than that. Sometimes it just takes one screwup to go from being someone that calls and says Hey it’s me, to being a complete stranger.

———-

Yesterday, was out in Brooklyn grabbing some court papers. Not fun. Sheridan had a dinner to attend and the hostess wrote to him, “Make sure you invite Logan Lowe!” He laughed and said I had to come. It was another catered affair with wealthy lawyers, entertainment people and artists.

The hostess was trying to set up Sheridan with people. She said that she would say, That’s a lovely dress/outfit, to indicate that the lady was available. Clever. People said she fixed up Kevin Klein and Phoebe Cates. Who knows?

A French waitress I briefly dated was there completely by random. Literally, completely unexpected. She told me to call her; told her I would.

Bounced early with this clothing manufacturer because Sheridan got us into the Hamptons party in midtown. It was thrown by the same guys that threw this and this. Open bar, beautiful people, the usual song and dance. Walking around, bump into the French waitress again! Call me; I will.

John Leguizamo was the guest of honor – and the host mispronounced his name, which clearly pissed him off. Had a lot on my mind, and rum in my system, so I really wasn’t into it. Sheridan and hopped before midnight. Walking up 10th Avenue, I rang someone.

Me: Hey, it’s me.

Her: Hey.

Weekday win

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.

Just got in – I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow, maybe, yeah?
Location: read below
Mood: so entertained
Music: everything you want, Honey, we know the names