I decided to do the walk of shame through central park and check out the Met and the Natural History Museum. The latter was a let down.
I went back to the Fat Black Pussy Cat, which has $3 pints at happy hour, and met some of the people I’d met on my first days in NYC. I ended up travelling around the city looking for live music until 4am with my new friend.
“Can I ask you something? I’ve known you for a week, and we’ve been drinking for about 5 hours now… What’s my name?”
He got me. I didn’t know his name. I never use names. I’m all “babe”s and “love”s. I will totally advocate for a world without names.
“I am so sorry.”
“My name is George. It’s okay if you forget it”.
I told him I probably would.