Tag: New York City

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personal

Ships in the night

Met the Ship in the Night Girl Again

Me: Ships in the night?
Her: I’m sorry what?
Me: (laughing) My mistake…thought you were someone else.

Friday, go to a party thrown by Jenny and friends – they hired a bartender and had an open bar. Sweeeeeet. Saturday, spend the day roaming the hood with with HEI. We end up having a wind-tunnel-like lunch at the Boat Basin. She’s all sorts of lovely.

Saturday night, go to a friend’s b-day party. Meet someone I swear is the Ship In the Night Girlie.

Her: It sounds like it could be me, but I don’t remember.
Me: (disappointed) Then it wasn’t you.
Her: How do you know it wasn’t me?
Me: Cause you’d remember a fella like me.
Her: That’s awfully egotistical of you.
Me: (sighing) Don’t mean it to be. But it’s true.

She and I hang out with Paul and WM til six in the morning. We finish up the night at a French bistro downtown as the run rises. Lose my phone – ugh. That’s a whole entry in itself.

Don’t get into bed until 7AM. Wake up a little while later and run in the rain to meet up for a memorial lunch for Mike. His sister gives me an envelope fulla singles; said she wanted me to hand them out to anyone that asked for help cause Mike woulda liked that. Said I would.

Hop off to church where I meet a girl from Holland and end up walking this girl Beth home – she’s involved but fun company. Give her the nickel tour before we run into Jenny and some other people ’round the way.

Finally get a few moments to think. Wonder if I’ll ever see Ship in the Night Girl again. Stupid isn’t it? You see a girl for a moment and she’s in your head weeks later?

Her: (to WM) Your friend’s so peculiar. (to me) You’re so peculiar. Maybe I am the Ship in the Night Girl.
Me: You’re not, but thanks. (taking her hand) We’ll be friends, yeah?
Her: Yes.

There’re numbers I’ll never get again in that phone I lost. Seems like more ships pass me in the night than I thought.

———-

Ran into my friend Christianne tonight too. Here’s a story about her or you can just listen to her sing to you now…

 

Location: 7AM yest, stumbling home
Mood: hoping
Music: Hey Snowflake! What ‘cha doin on Arlington Place?

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personal

My random nights

Her: (picking up hairclip on bookshelf) Wear this much?
Me: Was that there?
Her: It’s cool. (putting hairclip back) Every girl leaves something behind. Except me. I’m not going to leave anything behind.

I’m getting sued again by someone else. It never ends.

Tuesday night, skip fencing to see the pretty Hazel-Eyed Italian for a private party on a rooftop garden on Fifth Avenue. It’s a catered affair with an open bar and we pound rum all night in between getting massages and chatting with Pat Kiernan and his wife. HEI and I duck out to catch a late night flick. The next day, she tells me she’s not hung over at all. Ah, the power of rum.

Wednesday night, meet up with Elle at the South Street Seaport. She’d never been either and took me out for my birthday. We walk from there a mile or so to a friend’s place where we end up shooting the breeze until midnight. I tell her that most of the women I meet are usually bi-sexual. Or don’t want kids. Or are 22. Or don’t want to ever get married (like her). Or something. She laughs.

Her: We have a strange relationship, you and I.
Me: We do. Why? What do you think of it?
Her: (getting up and smiling) Bye, Logan.

Thursday. Wonder what the weekend has in store for us.

Location: 20 mins ago, Grand Central Station
Mood: thinking
Music: This city is for strangers Like the sky is for the stars

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personal

Life gets in the way

Location: 19:00, walking up Broadway
Mood: pensive
Music: your empty eyes Seem to pass me by Leave me

Friday, crash a party with some amazing food by this gorgeous 5’9″ woman. Also meet this 6’1″ Italian woman who’s looking for some people to hang out with so we exchange info. Man, wish I were taller, wish I were a baller. Oh well.

Saturday, hit up a party and play with a killer camera and take all these pics. Round 11, meet up with this girl Yvey as well as her friend Pyro. Then at 2AM, meet up with my buddy WM who’s hung up on a girlie. Tell him that the girlie’ll either call or not but either way, it resolves itself. He asks how I’m sure.

Me: After a while, you start seeing patterns. OK, you see that blond? I’m going to say hello and she’ll dance with me. Then she’s going to ask me to buy her a drink and I won’t. Then she’ll find some other guy to buy her a drink, dance with him and try and make me jealous. When we leave, we’re going to talk one more time.

(one hour later)

Me: Like I said. Patterns.

Him: Get her number?

Me: Why? I already know how the story ends.

Sunday had a date with French girl that started and ended there. Also saw a friend and just wept – but it was cause we got ourselves into a laughing fit and couldn’t stop. I think we laughed for five minutes straight.

Speaking of weeping, made yet another woman cry, but for different reasons:

Her: You’re a nice young man to call. (sniffles) It means a lot to me that you called.

Me: (laughing) I’m not that nice nor young. (quiet) I’m sorry it took so long for me to call. Life gets in the way, y’know? Mike…he’s very missed. Very.
Her: I… (cries)

I like to mix it up. Do something good every once in a while.

It helps me forget people ‘n things.

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personal

NYC Boy

Rain and Scottie invite me to to a party uptown. Since he never heads uptown, had to say yes. Going there, meet a blue-eyed girl named Gwen who said she can’t tell who’s mad and who’s wearing a bluetooth headset. Contemplate giving her my number but we didn’t hit the pivot point so I don’t.

At the party, make my way across to my friends and run into pair of long legs before I find Rain.

Me: I just picked up the prettiest girl for you (turn to long legs and wave; she smiles and waves back)
Rain: (laughs)

We bounce into the bar in the pic where Scottie and Rain tell me that there’s something wrong with me cause I don’t sleep with the women I date.

Me: Guys call it “getting lucky,” right? I hate that. It’s a pathetic statement from pathetic men. Women don’t “get lucky” but men do. That’s ridiculous. Boys like me sleep with a girl cause we choose to, not cause we “get lucky.”
Her: I don’t approve.
Me: (shrugging and turning to Scottie) OK, I’ll sleep with you then.
Her: (pause) Take a number.
Me: Sheeyah…
Bartender: (interrupting and pointing at me) Your friend’s right. The guys that try to get lucky never do.

Soon, we pile into Scottie’s whip. When we hit Central Park, Rain jets. Earlier, mentioned I liked Rain’s leather jacket so as he exits, he takes it off and hands it to me. It’s yours, he says. Before I can protest, he’s already in a yellow going downtown.

He’s a good fella, that one. I’m wearing it below.

Once home, I get a message that Pretty Jenny and some others’re around the way but then onea my stories I thought ended drops me a line.

You should stop by here for a spell. It’ll break your heart, NYC in the Spring.

But it’s totally worth it. If only for the people and the violets in Central Park.

 

Location: 22:00, 1409 York Avenue
Mood: touched
Music: Take me on a trip, I’d like to go some day – take me to New York

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personal

Stupid Tequila / Oranges in our drinks

Me: There are three types of people in the world. Single, sorta single and not single.
Her: Which one are you?
Me: Which one do you want me to be?

Busy weekend. Here’re the highlights. Friday, meet up with Pretty Jenny and her friends. We all hang out downtown where an outdoor flick’s playing. Then we’re off in cabs to another joint where I snap the pic below and Jenny buys rounds. Gave Tequila another chance and she screwed me. Always ends the same.

Saturday, Rain, Hazel, Paul and I hit up a few bars and The Park. Between the bartender whipping a patron with his own belt and the skinnydipping in the club, I run into the Cornell crew; a woman from way back; somea Paul’s friends; and somea Gio’s friends. Said it before, NYC’s a small town. Eh, at least you’re never bored.

Speaking of town, Caligirl’s back in it and wants to get together; she’s marrying someone else. But it’s not the man she loves and not me either. It’d be funny if it wasn’t. She found out about this blog too so I guess her story ends here.

Arrive home comfortably numb, and there’s a painfully sad email sitting in my inbox that sobered me up right quick. Couldn’t read it all. Guess that story ends here too. She had the most beautiful eyes.

Three stories ended this weekend, in one way or another. I’m always exiting people’s Venn Diagram or vice versa. Sucks either way. Hence the Tequila. Stupid Tequila.

Rethinking pouring my life into this blog. No. 5 once asked once if I was lonely. No, I said, I have my secrets. Only got a few left.

And those I wish I didn’t have. Cause they rattle ’round my brain at 5AM and keep me up. Stupid secrets.

Me: Sorta single? It doesn’t matter. The night is young and we have oranges in our drinks. Well, I do anyway. You’ve got bubbles.

Location: 22:40, walking up Broadway w a friend
Mood: hopeful
Music: people in your life are seasons, And anything that happen is for a reason

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personal

He keeps calling

Met a girl tonight and told her we were like ships in the night

Met up with some friends for a Spring party. There was a girlie there from Guest House a few months back. My friend was gaming her but I could tell she was vibing me so I discreetly bounced – girlies come and go, good friends are harder to find. He’s now with someone else so fast forward to this past weekend.

Her: You’re leaving? Again? What’re you, a viejo?
Me: (kissing her cheek) Very much, pretty lady. Very much.

Was leaving cause I was thinking of ringing SX when I ran into a pair of green eyes.

Her: Alison.
Me: Logan. (shaking her hand) Well look at us – we’re like ships in the night; you’re stepping in, I’m stepping out. We’d have lovely children, you and I, what with my looks and your brains. They’d be a shoe-in for the ivy league.
Her: What? (laughing) Then stay.
Me: Can’t. Got an appointment to keep. But New York’s a small town – ships in the night, yeah?
Her: Yeah.

Walking to the subway, flicked on my mobile and dialed a number. I’m sleeping, she said, but we talked until dawn anyway.

Saturday involved more rum, the Token girl (who’s moving ’round the way), the bouncers at Solas (who turned me upside down), Paul and a German girl in Zum Schneider (who was entertaining), and a Russian blond (who was awfully handy) on 9th Street.

Sunday night, went to church and sat next to a friend who told me she couldn’t make it to my birthday. Then I walked home with Jenny again.

It’s Monday. Got 11 days left; the devil’s been calling. Afraid I’ll have to answer at some point. The devil and God comes when you’re on your knees.

Don’t wanna be on my knees again. Thankfully, that’s where the rum comes in.

Location: in my shower, thinking
Mood: wicked
Music: And when you think it’s all over, It’s not over, it’s not over

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personal

Easter Weekend 2008

The time where I meet a sexologist

 

Won’t be posting much this week. Getting audited. I’ve got 24 days to come up with $25,674. I really dunno how much more pressure a man can take.

Life’s…stressful.

Friday I saw Hazel and her pretty friend, Helen. We chatted about life and love out in the wilds of Long Island. Then I drove them home. The weekend was off to a good start.

Until the letter above came in Saturday morning. Gio rang me and said we had to go out to a party in the Upper East Side. A party in UES’s like a party in the wilds of Long Island. But I went anyway.

Glad I did. I met a beautiful Sexologist who refused to kiss me.

Her: You have to work for it.
Me: (laughing) Fair enough.

Of course, she was 23. Not a pescatarian and not from NJ, though – Philly. We called it a night at 4AM and she told me to look her up when I was in her part of the world.

Me: If I go, can we get a cheesesteak?
Her: Cheesesteak’s a must.

Rolled out of bed a few hours later and worked non-stop. Paul and Hazel wanted to buy me brunch and Rain wanted to shoot me dough but charity and pity ain’t my thing. Rum’s my thing.

Stopped so I could make church on time at at 16:30; stayed until 19:45. Was walking home when I ran into lovely Jenny. Coffee and conversation? I asked. She nodded and we went to a bookstore where I told her about my life. And she told me about her’s.

She said her dramas seemed small compared to mine. I shook my head. Heartache doesn’t work that that way – there’re no absolute values of pain. Anyway…let’s actually plan to do this again instead of leaving it to chance, I said. She laughed and we left.

Hopping into my whip, I raced across the city see the woman I love most in the world. When I arrived, she beamed and gave me a huge hug.

Her: How was your Easter weekend?
Me: Could have been better, mom. Could have been better.

Gave her a kiss on the cheek and went downstairs where I sat by my lonesome. Took a deep breath, bowed my head, and asked for some grace and mercy. I ate, washed and took some poison to sleep. Could have been better but could have been worse, I guess.

I told you, yeah? There’s always more room for down.

Location: on a new leather couch that’s not mine
Mood: so very tired
Music: pressure pressure pressure AAAAAAAhhh…pressure pressure pressure

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personal

Something Came Up

Location: read below
Mood: full
Music: I know that you are not a child

I’ll be very impressed if you know this song.

Met a pretty scientist tonight. Yes, I didn’t know either.

Was supposed to meet a girlie for drink tonight but something came up. So instead, I went to a grand opening with Sheridan. But something came up with him.

No worries, I met up with Paul at The Naked Lunch instead. But he bailed too, because, you guessed it, something came up with him too. So I chatted up a girl that insisted I met her and made out with her friend last summer.

I didn’t, I said. Only later did Kung remind me that I did – and I did.

New venue: the Grey-eyed girl and Kung were all going across the street to some cafe. Was putting on my jacket when the scientist smiled at me.

You guys go ahead, something came up, I said.

Fifteen minutes later, I slipped her my info and slipped outside. Was going to meet everyone when another friend suggested we grab some cheap tacos around the way. Perfect.

Four tacos later, I was leaving the joint when Gio rang. So I swung by his loft. Want some chili? he asked. Sure. Cause I got zero self-control.

45 minutes later, I grabbed the subway home and thought that the night didn’t go anything like I thought it would. S’ok, though.

Life never does.

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personal

Terribly Romantic

 

No slappage, guys, sorry.

Hazel crashed on my couch the other night and we grabbed brunch the next day. The weather? The conversation? The morning? Perfect.

So over some freshly baked Portuguese bread and steaming coffee:

Me: This would all be terribly romantic if either one of us was even remotely attracted to the other person.
Her: (laughing) It’s ok, I like what we have. Speaking of which, you should meet my friend…

We’re gonna keep looking, she and I.

Wonder what her friend’s like.

Location: 17:00 yest, church
Mood: doubting
Music: You’ve got to push all the doubt to the side of your mouth

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personal

Crackers

Some days, you get hot dancers, models, and caviar on a cracker. Others you just get the cracker

Him: You’re on the guest list. It’s an anti-Valentine’s Day party at the Chinatown Brasserie. Everyone there’s single plus it’s catered with an open bar.
Me: (sigh) I’m in not in town. Last minute gig came up. I’m out, first thing in the morning.

It’s snowing when I exit the pad for the Rainbow Room. I’m wearing my black tux with a black tee-shirt and pretty much arrive drenched.

Sheridan and I run into our buddy RE Mike, who’s still cuttin’ deals at the party. James Lipton, Richard Kind, David Zaikin, Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin are there – all’re pretty nice folk. The food’s killer and some chick from American Idol belts out soul. I also meet this woman who says she fixes people up like Phoebe Cates and Kevin Kline.

Her: You’re cute! I want to introduce you to my step-daughter. She’s beautiful and just graduated from Cornell. She’s Jewish though.
Me: Well, that I don’t have a problem with but…how old is she?
Her: 22.

Midway through the party, I lose Syd’s lens cap so I spend a good hour looking for it. Giving up, I hang out with the girl from Wednesday’s post.

I’m heading out when a waiter says, I saw you looking on the ground. Were you looking for this? He pulls out Syd’s cap. I break out into a smile, shake his hand, and take a pic of him. All-in-all, onea my better Tuesdays.

This week, Sheridan’s at the Brasserie, Paul’s in China, Gio’s in Columbia. Me? I’m the only person beside the nightwatch in a frozen, upstate hotel. Dinner’s a protein bar and some rum.

Some days, you get scantily clad dancers, Ford models, and Beluga caviar on a cracker.

Some days, you just get the cracker.

Location: alone in 14020
Mood: so tired
Music: I am damaged at best Like you’ve already figured out