Last night I went to an ’80s bar where they had two rooms. One was for the Madonna-Prince boppers, one for the Morrisey-Cure ghoulies. Anyway, I was headed past the bar when I got shoved into this guy. We looked at each other for a second, and he grabbed my shoulder:
Guy: Do I know you?
Guy: From where?
Guy: Yeah! Where did we meet?
Me: You were the stripper at my birthday party.
Guy: Ha! Right!
Me: What are you doing in the city?
Guy: I’m an investment banker.