An embarrassment of riches

Alright, alright, alright. I’m exhausted, but you knew that already. I’m at La Esquina being *forced* to drink free sangria given to me for my birthday by the Peruvian waiter.

Last night with Michael and Steven was a dream. Appetizers and then dinner. Our waiter, Christian from Tlaxcala, sweethearted us Montepulciano and biscotti. It was so good to see my boys.

I slept with Steven. Or rather, we went out on the rather basic part of town in Chelsea (note: Hawaiian shirts, ugly sneakers and blazers are all the rage among the rapey set). We had one drink (banana daiquiris)  got room service and talked late (operative word being late) into the night. And then we slept. In an air conditioned room on a nice bed.

Today was spent in SoHo. In Allbirds and MAC and Bloomies and Melissa. Steven is a terrible influence.

Lunch at La Esquina, and now I’m getting day drunk while Steven makes his way to Port Authority and back to Maryland.

A month ago I was sure I would be lonely in this city. But this week has been nothing but lovely. So many blessings visited upon this weary head. Now, to pay them forward.

And sleep. Perchance to dream.

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