Saturday night, went with Maeve and Slim to see an irony-free double act on the Lower East Side. The first performer was a friend of Slim's from college who now goes by "Adrian Lunar" and is very mysterious and romantic and into muses. Slim made the major faux pas of addressing him as "Jerry" and there was a moment's shocked silence.
Slim kept producing this graph of gold prices over the last twenty years from his pocket and making people look at it. Adrian Lunar was not very interested in it.
The place was packed with what Maeve accurately described as "douches and whores." Of the lame gentlemen who approached us (Slim was, per usual, somewhere else, hobnobbing with various people from Wesleyan), one was wearing tie-dye, one had his hair in a bun, one farted vigorously, and another used the opener, "Nice glasses. But," (turning to Maeve) "you're not half-stepping either!"
"Slim's surrounded by sluts," said Maeve at one point. "He seems to know them all!" He did.
Afterwards, the two of them wanted to go for a drink back in Brooklyn. I didn't, so I formed a plan in the cab.
"I'm making a run for it," I told Maeve in an undertone as we pulled to a stop. I leapt from the cab and into the subway, and barely managed to swipe my MetroCard before Slim clattered down the stairs. Of course, then the 'G' took about twenty minutes to arrive, so I was easily discovered behind a pillar.
Anyway, it turns out everyone, but everyone, was at the bar: Charlie, Moishe, Maxine, etc. Maeve said she went to get a drink and felt something rubbing against the fur of her sleeve. "And of course," she told me the next day,"when I turned around, it was GK4."
"Oh, it's you." he said. "In that case, I can do it openly."
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