Crashing the party, Pt 2

Making new friends

So, there we are, two-and-a-half hours early to this birthday party and we’re just out at the park next to Chelsea Piers. I feel awful that I screwed the time up so badly for this kid.

Luckily, I had a cream cheese bagel and several oranges with me, so I give him that so at least he’s not hungry.

That killed ten minutes.

Me: Should we go home?
Him: (getting up and walking away) Nah. I’ll make some new friends.

And he does.

He literally crashes another – complete stranger’s – birthday party and becomes the most popular kid there.

This is him in the middle of the party playing with a ball.

Later on, he convinces the birthday boy to climb a tree with him and then the entire party of kids are up in this tree, singing Encanto songs.

He spends the time hanging out with them – and hanging off branches of that tree – and is soon literally leading them around the park with alla these rando ideas he has.

My buddy Steele wrote me…

When it was finally time for the party, I asked the kid…

Me: Do you want to get that kid’s number?
Him: Nah, let’s go to the party.

We do and he has a blast – 42 kids and twice that number of parents were there.

There was a plate of sandwiches there and I ate six of them because I gave the kid all the food earlier.

Him: You’re eating the tuna fish? You don’t think that’s a bad idea?
Me: (shaking head) I trust the system.

Of course, the kid sat next to the birthday girl.

Later on, we head to a much smaller party with just the family. I felt honored we were invited.

Me: Mind if I have a cup of water?
Her: Oh, just help yourself. Cups are there, you know that. You’re family!

Good friends are gold, really.

Me: (leaving late at night) Did you have a fun day?
Him: (sleepily) Yes, papa. Can I go to sleep now?
Me: (nodding)

Long story, but I was chatting with a girl we’ll call the Aerialist, who is different from the Acrobat, I know, my life is very strange – she’s really a builderer but that word just sounds weird.

Her: [This is] the most expensive gin and soda I’ve ever purchased.
Me: Well, now you have to tell me how much.
Her: $21, $25 with tip.
Me: Jesus Christ, did you get a massage with that?

She left today in a rainstorm for a trip to Spain and it got me thinking of when I was last there. A decade ago.

Also thought of the Pretty Cake Decorator for the first time in years. This was one of her favourite songs. Told her we’d take a holiday in Spain one day. We never did.

She married the guy after me; they have two cute kids now. I was happy she found her person.

Everything seems like lifetimes ago.

Suppose it all was.

Location: my pad, cancelling another date because I found a mouse in my house
Mood: still annoyed with these hives
Music: Man, it’s a miracle that she’s not living up in a tree (Spotify)
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Crashing the party, Pt 1

A walk down my memory

The problem I have with dating is that it’s totally binary for me. Either I don’t date – at all – or I have eight dates in a week. There’s no middle ground.

This is not sustainable.

Her: Where were you?
Me: I left after 20 minutes.
Her: You left?! Who does that?
Me: Me. Being, admittedly, very pretty is no excuse for being rude. And pretty girls are a dime-a-dozen. Lose my number, please? Good luck with life.

On a different note entirely, the boy’s a social animal himself.

We’re not the same, he and I.

I taught myself how to be social, never having friends as a kid. My son, though, he’s a complete natural. But lemme back up a bit first…

We start out the day at a picnic at a playground where I catch a shot of the rainbow you see above.

Then we go to my gym for a quick spell, not much to say there.

Not from that day/night but this is a fun pic.

After the gym, he and I head off to another birthday party for the Surgeon’s kid at Chelsea Piers but it’s a gorgeous day, so we walk.

Ended up walking past the Maritime Hotel, which is where Alison and I had our first real date. I wrote about it here.

I met the girl that lost her fella there as well.

Never told you that she was the coke girl. She was 22 then and dealing with the loss of the man she loved, hence the drugs and alcohol. And me in her life.

Don’t think she’s ever recovered from that loss. But that’s her story, not mine.

I get it now, though.

Me: (staring at the Maritime Hotel) I went on a date with the prettiest girl here.
Him: Mommy?
Me: (nodding) Yeah. Mommy.

He wanted to walk along the Highline so we did. The last time I was there, I was with Alison as well.

But, let’s not go down this route. Alison and loss, that is.

In any case, the Highline was packed. We went about three blocks on it before…

Me: There are too many people here and we’re close. Let’s get off this ride?
Him: OK!

Here’s the thing, I totally messed up the time and arrived at Chelsea Piers two-and-a-half-hours early.

Him: Papa!
Me: (apologetically) I know, I know, I know. My memory is swiss cheese these days.

For any other kid, this woulda been a problem, but not my bright-eyed, bushy tailed kid.

But, it’s getting late and I gotta get off this ride.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: in my head, the Maritime Hotel
Mood: (still) super annoyed by these goddamn hives
Music: They don’t got a pill for this (Spotify)
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Hook me up!

Circle

Like I said, people are always trying to fix me up with someone. I usually agree just to be polite and, besides, you never know.

Maybe I’ll be set up with Mary Jane Watson, who Peter kept avoiding for months. This is what MJ said when they finally met:

A mom from my kid’s class has been running me through all her friends because she’s just a sweetheart.

And, because I figure, compared to what’s out there, I’m a catch – the bar’s pretty low, lemme tell ya.

She actually got me in touch with a producer from NBC for a segment called, Hoda and Jenna: Hook me Up!

I had a nice talk with the producer but I decided it wasn’t for me. I did tell them to keep me in mind for anything in the future.

Anywho, the segment I woulda been on ran today.

The woman, Michelle, seems like a nice lady, just not my type, so it’s good I said no.

I’ll let you know if I show up on it ever.

Speaking of dating, the Counselor gone but the Acrobat’s still (kinda) around. It’s all complex.

It’s a shame because the Counselor was cool, pretty, and smart as a whip.

On the flip side, I’ve been chatting with this one woman who seems lovely but super lonely.

Her: I don’t know. I just never connected with anyone. Not anyone worth connecting with, I guess.
Me: I get that.

I’m always surprised at just how many lonely people there are in the world.

In some ways, I feel a little lucky that I didn’t have friends growing up because it’s kinda like that old Edie Brickell song that goes:

Being alone is the
Is the best way to be
When I’m by myself
It’s the best way to be
When I’m all alone
It’s the best way to be
When I’m by myself
Nobody else can say goodbye

Legit. I believe that.

An old friend of mine just completely disappeared. Like Will Hunting at the end of Good Will Hunting.

Except I doubt it was to see about a girl.

And I’m a bit jealous. Part of me wants to do that.

Maybe someday.

Location: earlier today, being shown a broken wall where my son had to be cut out of on the Upper West Side. He was fine.
Mood: pensive
Music: I quit. I give up (Spotify)
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Always? No. Not always.

Fast as you can

Her: Have you always been such an asshole, Logan?
Me: Always? (thinking) No. Not always.

It’s been a busy – and rough – few weeks. Trying to sort it all out.

Like always.

On a related point, I was in a car with another woman from my past the other night, well past midnight.

We weren’t so much talking as she was yelling at me, unabated.

Not that it wasn’t deserved. People have always been a mystery to me; when emotions are involved, all the more so.

And with this woman, that relationship ran every single emotion in the book. Neither one of us were angels but I’m definitely not proud of myself for a lot of it.

Her: Get out.

It was a long trip back.

Wrote her an email apologizing for how things went down with us but didn’t hear back from her, which I expected. I’m not sure I’d write me back either.

She teared up in the car and I wanted, desperately, to give her a hug. But, instead, I just sat back, afraid to make things even worse.

Which would be, admittedly, impressive because it was fuck-all already.

FWIW, I never intend to hurt anyone but it seems that’s what I’m best at. Like I said years ago, I’m the skillest with my sharp objects. The killest with my blunt instruments.

My weapons of choice are a sharp tongue and blunt words.

I’ve only gotten more skilled since then, what with all the trauma.

My last serious girlfriend before Alison called me a monster. Maybe Alison was an outlier, who never saw me as I really am.

Suppose I’m grateful for that.

Have you ever heard Fiona Apple’s Fast as You Can?

There’s a line that goes, Fast as you can, baby, scratch me out, free yourself. Fast as you can, baby. Run, free yourself of me.

That sounds like a good plan for her and everyone else. I’m great at glib relationships, shit at important ones.

Except with Alison, for reasons I’ll tell you all about one day. Maybe.

But she’s no longer here. So, what about the kid? He can’t scratch me outta his life and Alison’s not here to counter-balance my beast.

I’m not good with people in any meaningful, normal way. How can I make it so that the kid is?

In a Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the mother is terrified the kids will grow up like her alcoholic husband.

I’m terrified the boy will grow up just like me.

Location: a few days ago, the middle of nowhere Brooklyn at 2AM
Mood: resigned
Music: My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith (Spotify)
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Ruining my own weekend plans

Wanting things to be different

I’ve not spent the 4th of July with anyone in years.

Alison spent most 4th of Julys with her extended family. Mouse did the same but not even extended family, just immediate family.

And for this 4th and the past one, the boy’s been away.

This year, I wanted it to be different. To this end, I made alla these plans with a pair of pretty hazel eyes except, a few days beforehand, she asked me a question I couldn’t answer.

Her: I wonder if you can make room for someone in your life right now?
Me: What do you mean?
Her: You seem set in your ways.
Me: I think that, for the right person, I could find room.
Her: Yeah. For the right person.

And it made me realize a lotta things – not just about her and me – but about some questions that has been rattling around my head for a while now.

I finally understood what someone was trying to tell me for years. But, I suppose, that’s another entry entirely.

In any case, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. In the morning, I woke up and promptly ruined all of my weekend plans and hurt my own heart.

Still, it was – honestly – the most adult breakup I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Me: … I wanted to be upfront with you about everything.
Her: And I appreciate you being honest with me about all that. All that being the case, I think it’s probably best to just take a bit of a step back from this.

And that was that.

I was gonna just spend the weekend at home drinking but life had other plans for me.

To start with, that night, a female friend invited me to see a concert and then we sat on my stoop afterward to have some wine, something I hadn’t done in decades.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of our respective dating lives and god.

Her: The real spiritual path is a higher calling to true redemption.
Me: OK. I’m vomiting in my mouth right now.
Her: Oh man, you have so many issues.
Me: Refusing to have sex or hating God?
Her: Both.

The next day, I was supposed to go with the Counselor to see Isabel the Singer but things fell through there as well for a whole host of reasons.

Mouse was at the gym and I was tempted to ask her if she wanted to come but that always ends in a gun fight so I decided against it and just went by myself.

It ended up being pretty cool.

Isabel: Thanks so much for coming!
Me: It was great, thanks for having me.

On the way home, way later than normal, got a call from the Acrobat but I’ll keep that part to myself.

The next day – and totally outta the blue – a girl named NC that I’ve not really chatted with in close to a decade hit me up to chat.

After a spell, I invited her to come by Paxibellum because we actually met at my old gym years ago.

Me: Come by my gym and roll!
Her: I can come by on Friday!

She did and we had a pretty fun time. She said she’d try to come by again.

She’s trying to figure out things in her own life as well.

Man, aren’t we all?

Was actually supposed to get dinner with some friends in Chinatown with some other friends I’d not seen since before COVID but that fell through as well.

In truth, that was fine by me. My week was already a lot more social than I wanted after everything went down.

Figured that I’d spend the rest of the weekend alone at home, but life had other plans for me, which I suppose I’ll tell you about later as well.

Location: earlier tonight, the Campbell, thinking of my possible pasts – and possible future
Mood: conflicted
Music: tell me that you miss me – baby, get your ass home (Spotify)
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The hard nos and the quiet moments

It’s only the quiet moments that matter

Her: And you?
Me: Twice, I think.
Her: What happened?
Me: The first girl wanted to stay, but couldn’t. I wanted her to stay, too. But wishes are just that.
Her: Oh. (later) And the second?
Me: She wanted to go, so she left.
Her: Did you want her to stay?
Me: (shrugging) She didn’t, so it doesn’t matter. People are who they truly are in their quiet moments. It’s only the quiet moments that actually matter. Because we’re made in our sleep and by our lonely.

The older I get, the less willing I am to deal with other people’s nonsense.

But, I’m finding out that this is pretty much the same across the board.

As I mentioned in my last entry, my friends usually hit me up to either discuss dating in general – men and women – or ask me to help them out with their profiles and/or messages.

One friend I find particularly hilarious. He literally has a spreadsheet of hard nos that he goes through with each and every one of the people that he finds remotely interesting.

Here are just a sampling of his Hard Nos

      1. Any of these pictures in the profile:
        • Most pics are them doing outdoorsy stuff and/or traveling
        • Pics of them golfing or scuba diving
        • Large tattoos
        • Pics of them with dog(s)
        • Pics with ONLY dog(s) and no humans.
        • Expensive looking lifestyle like in a private jet
        • Not smiling in any pic
        • Pics where they’re in the middle of eating something such as a large turkey leg or huge sandwich (I don’t have this problem, at all)
        • At a gun range, aiming / shooting a gun or a rifle
        • Only ONE photo and it’s of them wearing a face mask
        • More than one photo of JUST scenery or some landscape
        • More than one photo where must ask “which one is her?”
        • Photos where they are deep sea fishing and holding up a large fish they caught
        • Large set of photos where she is either not identifiable (back to camera, taken from far away so they’re tiny, etc) or not even in the photo
        • Photos of them kicking some guy’s ass in martial arts class (I definitely don’t have a problem with this)
        • Pics where they are on a motorcycle (obvs not a stopper for me)
        • Photos are only shoulders & above—none below
        • There is only one photo and it makes no sense
      2. Christians
      3. Beach lovers
      4. Golfers
      5. Attorneys (I think I may exclusively date lawyers in the future, frankly)
      6. Anyone that puts down their Myers Brigg and the third letter is a T – logic, versus F

And I thought I was picky!

My buddy says that he goes on far fewer dates but, the ones he actually goes on, he feels are more likely to last.

I think I’m the same way in that general concept. I get a lotta applications, but I send out only a handful of acceptance letters.

As for me, I have my own particularities but one clear red flag for me is when someone brings up how much they hate their ex or someone in their lives because I find that it’s usually the exact opposite of what they say.

Her: You have a lot of secrets.
Me: Yes. Because I’m very good at keeping them.
Her: Like you keep me a secret?
Me: Only because you asked. And I do as instructed.

Location: earlier tonight, in the rain just outside Union Square
Mood: content
Music: I started over again (Spotify)
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Cyrano de Low and the Siege of Melos

Yo-Yo, the Philosopher

Back before I met Alison, I recall writing emails to women on behalf of my friends, or – at the very least – editing them.

Now, with everyone texting these days, I find myself being asked by friends to respond to messages from women. It’s all pretty amusing for me, gotta say.

I was trying to explain to one friend that communication isn’t just what you say but what the listener/reader hears.

To further drive the point home, I told him something that I tell my friends alla time but also gave him two versions of the same concept: The first is by Thucydides during the Seige of Melos and the second by a kid called Yo-Yo in my junior high school.

 

On a related note, a young woman in my gym is going back to college – an ivy league – and wondering what she should pick as her major if she wants to go to law school.

Been telling her that, if that’s the case, she should really consider philosophy and read more from people like Thucydides – although, admittedly, he’s more of a historian than straight philosopher.

I actually never took any philosophy classes as an undergrad and it’s a regret of mine.

As for my own dating life, I saw the Acrobat and the Counselor recently, which is always entertaining, conversation-wise and otherwise.

Me: (noticing her ordering an open drink) Aren’t you concerned about roofies?
Her: With you? No. Not even sure I’d object. No wait, I would. I’d want to be awake for that.
Me: Noted.

The Counselor was actually in my area doing a cold sauna, for people with inflammation (everyone has inflammation to varying degrees).

The concept is to step into a super cold – negative 140 degrees Celsius – room and just be there for three minutes.

She was part ice cube when I met up with her.

Her: It was so cold, Logan!
Me: (laughing) I can imagine.

We ended up going to the Dublin House, which I’ve actually never been to, despite it being only a few blocks south of me and one of the oldest bars in NYC with a really cool neon sign that was recently rehabed.

Me: You should take advantage of me while you can. These looks won’t last forever.
Her: (shrugging) I figure that if you were going to fall apart, it would have happened already.

The Dublin House was cool but without air conditioning so we went to another of my usual bars around the way.

This one had both air conditioning and candy all over the place. Unfortunately, I’m dieting for a couple of things coming up so I ended up trying to hand the candy to other people so I wouldn’t be tempted.

We’ve both been so busy that we’ve not actually seen each other in a while so we ended up chatting most of the evening.

Her: My last boyfriend was closer in age to my dad than me.
Me: No kidding. What was the age difference?
Her: (thinking) 15 years?
Me: Wait, that’s the difference between us.
Her: Oh! You’re right. I forget.

Location: sitting in front of a 14TB external USB drive at 5400RPM and an 8TB external USB drive at 7200RPM with a USB-C hub and wondering if I should shuck both, and then swap the internals.
Mood: super tired
Music: Fell in love with a girl who’s a few years younger (Spotify)
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Don’t lead with that

That’s misleading

Her: So, you have allergies but you decided to bring in a ton of pollen producing plants into your home? If you two aren’t together any more, why don’t you get rid of them?
Me: (shrugging) I’ve grown accustomed to them. Plus, while it’s awful for me, hopefully, the boy will grow up with pollen and won’t get allergies. That’s the hope, anywho.

Back when Mouse was staying here, her health took a nosedive which broke my heart. Still does, TBH. But that’s neither here nor there.

We couldn’t figure out why – it turned out that my apartment is ridonk dry, with winter humidity levels in the teens but, I didn’t know that then – and thought it was maybe the air quality.

So, to this end, I started getting alla these air-purifying plants.

While she’s not been here in years, I kept alla the plants alive (mostly) and even started adding to the plant collection.

Now have two avocado trees, one of which is supposed to do well in apartments and fruit,…

…two blueberry shrubs, a snake plant, several ZZ plants, a spider plant from my friends at Evolution, one tomato plant, and a ton of scallions.

And, of course, I still have Harold.

Always wanted a fig tree and my mom was going to give me one, but it turns out that you actually need wasps to pollinate them so I’ll just have to content myself with figs from my mom.

Maybe I’ll try growing some strawberries?

So far, only the tomato plant has borne any fruit but I was thrilled to have them and made a sandwich with them just the other day.

It goes back to me liking to fix and build things myself. There’s just something about consuming – literally and figuratively – something you made yourself.


Speaking of fixing things, I’ve been fixed up about six or seven times in the past few months.

More if you count people like the French Dancer and Pharmacist that just randomly end up in my orbit.

I don’t write about most of them because the people that set me up are friends of mine that think well of me, so the last thing I want to do is gossip about the friends that they send to me.

Besides, everyone’s been lovely just…not really my speed for a number of reasons. Let’s just blame it all on me and my particularity, for the sake of brevity.

The funny thing is that, despite this blog detailing my pretty ridonkulous dating life, people continue to try to set up their friends with me.

I can only imagine that it’s pretty awful out there if I’m a top contender.

Still, hope springs eternal…

Her: I told her you were a lawyer.
Me: That’s misleading. I’m essentially an unemployed single-parent that spends most of his time rolling around with sweaty dudes.
Her: Don’t lead with that.
Me: Noted.
Her: Also, don’t mention the blog. God, why do you even have that thing?

Location: earlier tonight, the gym, trying to rip off my ex’s foot – she was trying to do the same, but better
Mood: hangry, of course
Music: Let’s make believe that we can fly (Spotify)
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The bar is on the floor

Dating nonsense

It was a strange week.

I joke a lot that I appreciate men in NYC being so bad with women because it makes my job so much easier.

As the Counselor likes to say, “The bar is on the floor,” so any improvement on top of that is significant.

Like I said, compared to the average NYC dude, I’m a goddamn pleasure.

Having said that, there’s a distinct negative to this reality, which is that very wealthy and/or very attractive women just behave in ways that are, frankly, appalling.

Case-in-point, one rando, but very attractive, blonde hit me up outta the blue the other day on IG and she seemed really friendly and nice with a large number of followers, which made me think she was normal.

But, when I took too long to respond to a question, she lost her mind and started ranting about some crazy stuff.

I had to block her and delete that convo because it got so unhinged.

Here’s the thing, I realize that I – as a man – have the luxury to simply move on with my life, while women that have to deal with this kinda nonsense have to contend with stalkers and far worse.

Still, I wonder a lot how people are raised that they can make demands of another person they barely know.

And my follow-up question is, how many men are jumping through every hoop this lady throws at them?

Me: Man, it’s awful out there.
Her: Well, yeah. On that note, what are we doing here?

As for the other reason why it was a weird week, was because I had two defining-the-relationship talks with two different women.

Like with Alison, I figure that I’ll know what I want when I meet what I want.

I’ve always found that logic has a limited role in these types of things.

Her: I just want to know that I’m not wasting my time.
Me: I get that. I only have about 11,000 days left here and I’m not looking to waste any of them. I wish I could give you more clarity than that.

After all these years, people are still the same, and – I suppose – I’m still ever the same.

We all have our front-runners and back-burners and the only real question is when to tell people where they are and where I am.

It’s the part of dating I hate the most and the part that I’d hoped I was long past almost decade-and-a-half-ago when I told Alison that all I wanted was her.

Location: the gym, of course, trying to drop two more pounds
Mood: earnest
Music: Nothing’s good enough for anybody else, it seems (Spotify)
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Memorial Day Weekend 1: Putting on our administrative hats

$10 and a six-piece Chicken McNuggets

The Boy: How do you clean a tuba?
Me: With a tuba paste.
Him: Correct!

I dropped off the kid with my in-laws the other day and, after some food and computer repairs, high-tailed it back home to try and make my gym class.

Me: So, should I mail you the bill for the computer repair or just email you a PDF?
Her: Why don’t we call the child-care and computer repair a wash, Logan?
Me: (laughing) Fair. Thanks, mom.

Unfortunately, there was an hour delay due to a fire in the tunnels on the NYC side, while rain was coming down on the tracks on the other side.

It was something else.

Debated not going into Paxi but went in anyway. On the way in, I ran into Mouse, who was also late, and we ended up paired together for part of the class.

It was nice to spend some time with her, I gotta say. I asked her to give me a lift back but she declined. I understood.

It took a few years but I’m trying to accept the world as it is, not as I wish it to be.

Which was the core of who I once was before I lost everything.

Making it home, I broke my fast – because I hadn’t eaten since 4PM and it was 9PM – and ate four burgers.

It wasn’t my proudest moment.

The next day, I met with a friend of mine…

Her: Do you want to make out?
Me: Sure.

…and also arranged to see the Counselor.

Her: I’ll see you around 8:30?
Me: Yup! By mine?
Her: Yes.

We ended up catching Uncharted but our phones kept going off.

Me: These damn dating apps are always trying to get me to spend money.
Her: Weird, I don’t get that problem.
Me: You’re a woman, you don’t need to. Didn’t you say you had 1,800 messages/likes on one of them?
Her: God, it gives me anxiety whenever I think of it. I just delete the apps and start over again.

Later, we somehow got onto the topic of injuries. She actually had far more than I had expected and I think she was unprepared for how many I had.

Her: Whoa. Was all that from fighting?
Me: Well, that’s what I tell people but the vast majority of them are because I’m super clumsy.

It took us a while to watch the film because, not only were our phones going off, I kept stopping to talk about random things.

Me: Have you ever heard of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon; once you see something, you can’t unsee it. Well, I was telling my son about water barrels the other day…
Her: How do you know all this stuff, Logan?
Me: I don’t have many friends.
Her: (laughing) I doubt that. I think you might be a little ADD.
Me: (shrugging) Maybe. (later) Wait, how much was your haircut?
Her: OK, in my defense, it’s been a while since I had a proper haircut. (pause). $X00.
Me: $X00! Jesus Christ. Listen, next time, I’ll cut your hair for $10 and a six-piece Chicken McNuggets.

That was the second time in 24 hours a pretty lady declined a generous offer from me.

Which is probably for the best because we ended up killing what was left of my good rum and I was likely to try and re-cut her hair that night.

Me: (very drunk) I have some administrative things for us to discuss.
Her: (equally drunk) OK, let me put on my administrative hat.
Me: Oooooh, lemme get mine on too…

Location: earlier today, saving him from drowning in Long Island
Mood: protective
Music: momma always said, “Look up into the sky, find the sun on a cloudy day” (Spotify)
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