Tag: nightlife

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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

Categories
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

Categories
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

Categories
dating personal

Monday Always Comes a Day Too Soon

Location: all over the damn place
Mood: confused
Music: risk all this for just a kiss I promise I will not resist

Friday night, Sheridan invites me another one of his high-society parties and Gio invites me to a club; woulda been floated into both but I need some downtime.

Using a broken chopstick and four rubber-bands, spend the night mounting a 2.5″ HD into a 3.5″ bay in my DVR. Used to spend a lotta Fridays like that. No lie.

Saturday night, hit up a girlie’s party in Jersey. Met someone whom I may have kissed over New Year’s, but I don’t think so. Then again, been wrong before. An hour into it, get a call from SX. She’s in Jersey too.

Her: Let’s meet up half-way.

Me: (thinking) OK, I’m game.

We end up at a diner just east of no-freaking-where. Her blond hair falls into her eyes when she walks in, laughs and says, This is crazy. I smile and nod. In one of our conversations, I tell her that I occasionally kiss the women I meet.

Her: You’re a tongue-whore.

Me: Do people say that?

It’s almost 5AM when we call it a night. Sunday, wake up, do my situps and clean up my train-wreck of a pad. Meet up with a Hazel-Eyed Italian for caramels who lives around the way with an easy laugh. She asks about my dating life so I take a deep breath and tell her.

Her: Oh…you’re a tongue-slut.

Me: Wow, people really do say that. And I prefer whore, thank you.

We walk around the big city for a bit. Pointing at some violets, she says that she never sees enough of them here. I smile in agreement before she slips underground and I dash off to church.

I slide into a pew and sit by my lonesome in the back. Find myself staring just a little too long at the smug couples around me. I excuse myself, go to the restroom and wash my face for no particular reason. Then trudge up the steps to sit alone again.

Monday always comes a day too soon, yeah?

Categories
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

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

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
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

Categories
personal

2008

Location: 19:00 yest, cleaning out the fridge
Mood: weird
Music: oh, you don’t do me in siren song; yeah, anyone would drown

Hazel, Paul and I went to three, very different, parties last night. The first was near me with the most amazing views and the nicest folk. The above pic was from the party. I met a museum curator with a nice laugh and got to know the hostess, a sweetheart from church, a bit better. The crowds were maddening.

The second was in a 14th Street loft that was pitch-black, loud and not my scene. There, I ran into a girl I met randomly once. It turns out I kissed her friend. Super small world. I met a girl from Connecticut who drew me a picture. At the strike of midnight, I realized I was by myself again.

The third was in the financial district with some old friends – the best kind, yeah? Clark, a buddy from law school was there. He’s a MUCH better cook than me and taught me how to make the best baked brie and love Tabasco on anything. I wish I was sober enough to remember more.

Called it a night at 4AM. On the train ride home, I had a sotted discussion with a nice young couple

Her: We’ve been together eight years.
Me: Eight years? Why don’t you two lock it down?
Her: Because marriage is just a concept. What does it do?
Me: It keeps you from meeting a guy a like me, maybe.
Him: (laughing) You seem a like a nice enough guy.
Me: And that’s where you’re both wrong. (to guy) Lock her down. ‘fore she meets a fella like me. Don’t let my drunken charm fool either of you.

It’s true.

2008. Here’s hoping it’s less interesting but more fun.

Come with? Y’know you wanna…