Today, I biked from Brooklyn into Manhattan for the very first time (via the williamsburg bridge). Now lets hope my bike doesn't get stolen.
Last night I met up with a girl for a few drinks at a lesbian bar then headed to a fetish(ish) party. The theme was clockwork orange, but really- we pretty much wore all black. My skirt was see through.
Here's what happened:
people get you in for free. people say hi, and my how pretty you look. you flirt and dance with people. You kiss the girl you came with, mouth tasting of caffiene and alcohol. You kiss her two lovers.
As the bar makes money, the bodies begin to move. Inhibitions (what little there were) dissolve and people push you to dance on the stage. After a few minutes you jump off and go kiss the girl, again. You bite her neck. You bite her neck again and lead her to dance with your hand in her pants. You tell the bartender about rad places to go to in prague and he gives you both free shots. You lick salt off the girls chest.
You watch everyone walk around in all white and extra long eyelashes. you are happy and the girl is fun and the music could be better, but at least its loud and fast.
at 4am the lights come on and people begin to leave.
You split spinach ravioli with the girl at a charming diner, but you don't remember what it tastes like because you drank so much. You are tired, but turned on. To stay awake you do a mini-bump in the bathroom. She takes you to her house. You meet her cats and fuck on her bed.
In the morning you go for coffee on the street you used to live. You talk about tattoos. she goes to meet her ex for brunch and you wander back to brooklyn- rediculously satisfied about the way it all turned out, but confused about the text you got at 12:41 PM that said "you have a hot girl in your bed" when your bed is empty in a different zip code.