Every summer my oldest friend would ensure that I had one night of full on rowdiness.

Every summer I cherish the moments with those who have become dear friends, some family, my brothers. We’ve danced on rooftops while sipping wine, eating ethnic cuisines, and sharing stories with those, who in a moment’s notice, could become enemies. That’s the thing about The City. One day you’re no one, the next day everyone knows you, and just as quickly people can forget your name… or pretend to, but we are living for now.

Every summer my oldest friend would ensure that I had one night of full on rowdiness.

We would bar hop, cut to the front of the lines, and drink in excess having the worry-free drunken night of our lives, because The City was ours and The City was safe. They know us here.

So, we drink, we dance, and we finish the night off with carbs supplied by The Renaissance, a treasure in Hell’s Kitchen.

And tonight was… well… morning…

And this morning, I met a girl and we connected, drunkenly. I finished my drink and she bought me another. I know her friend, but I don’t know her, but now we were connected.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I honestly don’t know if he’s handsome. I know that he came with a friend and his friend was interested in my new friend’s best friend who was on the dance floor. We danced together… and what drink is this? They make great drinks here…

“Let’s go to my place. Let’s go to our bar,” he was raising his voice over live karaoke and the cheers of adoring fans, all for a chance for a deeper connection with my new best friend.

I tried to be invisible so it wouldn’t be awkward since he was pouring his heart out to a stranger and all… and now opening his wallet.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me close and asserted, “I’m not going ANYWHERE without my girl.”

I love alcohol. It really brings people together if the environment is right. So, I went along. They hailed all five of us a taxi, since she “wasn’t walking anywhere in her Louie Vuittons,” took us to their bar and left the tab open.

My hip started to vibrate.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” A familiar voice from my childhood, my family, my brother.

We started walking the blocks and I felt happy, cheerful, free, and content. The nighttime weather in The City remains exceptional compared to home where it’s 90 degrees long after sunset.

We ordered and as I sat across from this stranger who had no interest in me, mostly likely didn’t remember my name, but yet paid my way all night, and I began to ask questions internally and out loud before it happened.