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?
Me: Yep.
Guy: From where?
Me: Sacramento.
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.
Of course.
9:29 a.m.
13th October 2000