We were known at every hipster joint and gay bar on Fifth Avenue: the Weslyan-diaspora bar, the Oberlin-diaspora bar, the ex-Lesbian Avenger bar. We just drank all the time, every night for months.
Like a shark, Paul had to keep moving. He slept only when necessary. He had business with the world, codes to crack, so many questions. Tonight, for example, Paul needed to know what fucking was like for girls.