Scenes From The Nightlife…


At the Garden of Ono, I puckishly told a guy I was researching coke addicts and wondered if he knew any so I could learn about their twisted behavior. “Yeah,” he said, in dead earnest. “Me.”

At the Eagle, where guys are generally butch and hairy and guzzle beer, one flitted over to me and gushed, “It’s so brave of you to wear horizontal stripes! I love it! God, I hope paisley never comes back!” Pause. “Sorry, I interrupted your process.”

At OW Bar, a chemo cutie murmured half to himself, “I already have the plague! Why am I smoking?”