Tag: New York City

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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

Categories
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

Categories
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.

Categories
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

Categories
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

Categories
personal

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

Categories
personal

None of your business

Heartache or papercuts

With nods to Jaerik and my friend who cares way too much.

I figure at least 20 people hate me in this world. One of them is this old hippie that yelled at me in Cooper Union while stumbling home for having my feet up on a public seat. My feet, I said, with a wink and a smile, are probably cleaner than most people’s butts.

Ass___, she said. To which I shrugged and said, That’s merely your opinion. And why should your opinion matter to me? You didn’t even say hello.

Considering that there are 6,641,114,623 people in the world, the fact that 20 hate me, that’s pretty good. In fact, I don’t have a calculator that can compute such a tiny figure. Try it.

Whatever someone thinks of me is just their opinion. Someone’s else’s opinion should not control your life – it’s a sucker’s bet.

Frankly, it’s none of my business what people think of me. It’s none of your business either.

On a grand scale, wars are fought over opinions. People fly planes into buildings because they have an opinion. Men become stalkers because they have an opinion. Little girls commit suicide because of people’s opinions.

On a more personal scale, you’ll drive yourself starkers caring what people think of you. I wasted my youth and my 20s tilting at those windmills. In this world, you can only ever change things about yourself.

The rest is just heartache or paper cuts.

In other news, I’m sick again. I’m always getting sick. Dammit.

Location: 5:30 yest, going to bed
Mood: sick again
Music: Love me or hate me, it’s still an obsession

Categories
personal

9 to 6 or 6 to 9 / 25 or 6 to 4

I’m on the wrong side of 6AM when I stick my key in my door and turn to unlock it. I’m wondering what happened this weekend.

Half-an-hour earlier, I’m walking alone in the snow to the West Side Highway to catch a cab home.

An hour earlier, I’m in Guest House with Gio and Paul both gaming the same hottie. Drama. I’m too old for drama. As usual Gio floated us in and gets us a table with a bottle of vodka. Not my poison but it’s comped so I take it. I chat up a group of lovely Irish actresses and girl from Kentucky that’s a great dancer.

Two hours earlier, I’m in Sway being told by a girlie from Holland that I should meet her again in the hidden club at the Village. Nah.

Four hours earlier, I’m with “Clara” celebrating her birthday at Sugar. I tell her to text all my friends: Logan’s all up in my grill – where are you guys? thinking they’ll come save her. Nope.

Six hours earlier, I run into an old ghost from my club days. I tell him I’m a Christian and don’t run hustle or sweatboxes any more. I don’t think he believed me. He woulda never had believed I got grifted.

Seven hours earlier, I’m speaking crappy German and Chinese to Benlbr at The Back Room where John McEnroe slipped past me. Ben and I are on our own tight schedules but it’s good to meet up.

Eight hours earlier, I’m stepping into Bar 151 with Paul to see Kung, the Grey-Eyed Girl and Randi. Two girls smile at me but I demur to saying hello. I’m on a schedule.

I’m on the wrong side of 9PM when I stick my key in my door and turn to lock it. I’m wondering what’ll happen this weekend.

Location: two hours ago, having dinner on Columbus
Mood: restless
Music: Searching for something to say; Waiting for the break of day

Categories
personal

You and I know the reason why / Her

Location: 20:00 yest, caught in the rain
Mood: slightly less sick
Music: We’d spend our days travelin’

I fell in and out of imaginary love driving past 66th Street and Fifth Avenue. She was wearing jeans with a black hat, waiting for the light to change. She looked at me and we locked eyes. Just a moment really, but it seemed longer.

I dunno why, but I thew her a wink and she burst out laughing. So she blew me a kiss and waved as she crossed the street. I laughed by myself in my car. For a moment I thought about calling out to her but then I figured, why ruin a perfectly good moment?

The light changed anyway, as it always does so she and I blended back into the 8.2. Maybe it was her again – I still have her heart.

It’s finally Friday. I’m still sick but I think I’m good enough to have some red rum and daydream about Her and what might’ve been.

Categories
business personal

Recent Conversations

Nightlife Conversations in New York City

(c) Victor Kung

Her: What do you do again?
Me: Ruthless businessman.
Her: Me too! Except…I’m a girl.

———-

Her: So I’m intrigued about this blog of yours. Do the women know you write about them?
Me: Only the ones that stay.

———-

Me: I got a camera. What’d you get for Christmas?
Her: My parents got me a Glock 23. It’s beautiful!
Me: (pause) You don’t…you don’t have it on you, do you?
Her: I wish!
Me: I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m a little turned on right now.

———-

Me: I got a camera. What’d you get for Christmas?
Her: Eh, the usual. Oh! Alicia got me a bag of coke. That was awesome.
Me: I really have to record my conversations with you.
Her: Well, it wasn’t all for me, we shared it.

———-

Employee: Why do you need her contact information?
Me: I might need it.
Employee: You don’t need it.
Me: I might need it.
Employee: I’m telling you, you don’t need it.
Female supplier: (sitting uncomfortably then laughing): Here, I’ll write it down.
Me: (grinning) Thanks – you never know, I might need it.
Employee: (rolling eyes) Sheyah. I’m taking a break now.

———-

Watching Planet Earth with Cain:

Narrator: …few signs of life and a desolate environment, there’s little activity for months at a time.
Cain: Much like Logan’s bedroom.
Me: I hate you.

Location: 3:00 yest, having a gyro on Broadway & 78th
Mood: still @#$@# sick
Music: had to make it happen They never thought that I would make it