Whatever the entry point, our most successful summer flings (all of our summer flings) have begun with actually meeting someone and exchanging words with them.
“Oh yeah, he fed her to the homeless,” says Hank, who lives on East 5th Street. “A few days after it happened, before it hit the papers, while the rumors started spreading around the Village, the homeless in the park were going, ‘Yeah, Dan did give us soup yesterday.’ They were goofing on it but they were pretty much grossed out.”
“Where is that whole happy tormented crowd I used to know? Driven from the Village to the Lower East Side too ... where? Where are they? Or maybe the question should be: where am I?”
“I’ve been declared hip for so long that it makes my skin crawl,” he says. “When somebody says, ‘John Lurie is hip,’ it’s like sticking worms on my back.”
