Sinking in the New York Routine


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It is Sunday and I am at my Brooklyn HQ, The Civil Service café. Two obnoxious French guys apparently working in the movies talk very loud about their job drama. Oh well. I don’t like French people abroad (because I am one.)

I’ve been in the Big Apple for 4 weeks now and I finally found my pace, my places, my people. I start mapping the city with the regular patterns of my little glittery feet.

The girls at my office officially took a sudden dislike for me. There was a leaving drink on Thursday and 4 of the girls left at the same time, talking about the bar where they were heading to in front of me ; making sure to avoid any eye contact not to have to invite me. That was brutal. Then the wave of dudes left too and they all proposed me to join, hugged me and said they’d miss me if I didn’t show up. Thank God for the boys! I went to yoga and let it all out. I cried all class and it was hard to do the breath of fire with my nose full. I ended up making disgusting noises and bubbles but it was deeply relieving.

Anything else has been extraordinary. I went to a bar called the “One Last Shag” on Friday night after α² and β cooked home-made curry. I know the name of the place is improbable – but I saw the sign with my own eyes. I arrived late and breathed the crowd with curiosity. Anywhere else in the world, I’d find pathetic to end up alone at a bar counter in the middle of the night, but it makes me feel good here. Is it the context or the NY folks?

In a moment I started talking with a very pretty young boy called η. The usual. “I love your coat, you are gorgeous, we should hang out together.” He gave me his number. This is what my life is about. He was wearing the same bracelet as the one I bought on the Route 66 in New Mexico last October, with tiny camp Virgin Mary. He was a design student with his left arm covered with tattoos which he all imagined. I asked him to design my Earth Pulse symbol tattoo for the curve of my waist on the right side of my body. η told me that he is in love with a man ten years older then him who is in rehab for an undetermined amount of time. He visits him every week and can’t get him out of his head although the guy wants him to live his life and not wait for him. Poor kid. My mother heart to all my gay sons shivered. I love them all so much for no reason. That’s probably why they send me back an irrational amount of love without even knowing me either sometimes.

Saturday was doughnut day with my marvelous and generous friend ε – she’s one of the Whores of the Whore House. She flew from Chicago with her sister and her sister’s guide dog Sunshine just to kiss my cheeks. How wonderful is it to have friends jumping on a plane just to see a little bit of you? We had a lazy rainy New York afternoon and we stuffed our mouth with the orgasmic doughnuts from Dough between all the updates we had to tell each other. Good times.

Saturday night had to be dedicated to the Stonewall Inn cause I hadn’t been in a while and I need my vibe intake. I met my French London friend μ² who is in town for a week with her boyfriend. I became friend with μ² in unusual circumstances. I interviewed her for a job at my previous company 2 years ago and we’ve been friends since, although we both quit shortly after. I drank 4 Amaretto sour and we got our palm read by a very beautiful black drag queen with the shiniest lips I’ve ever seen. She checked my palm with a torch lamp and I picked up only half of what she said but I remember her saying “I want you to go out and flirt, I want you to let your friends have the final word in your love life, I see potential for marriage and a stable relationship.” Whatever. Me and my weird palm readers.

I came back home at midnight and α² prepared home-made salty pop corn. I loved it. Midnight pop corn with my Kansas City born hubby. When he went to bed, I put my sparkly Vivienne Westwood stilettos back on and faced the rain in the middle of the night for one last drink at the One Last Shag.

Nothing significant happened but it could as well have been the case.

I just wanted to live a little bit more before bedtime.

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