NYC Diary #37

MONDAY

12:34 a.m. I’m in the East Village and the sweetest guy comes up to me and asks if I would sign Lunch Poems for him. It’s crazy. I’ve never signed someone else’s book.

We end up hanging with him & another friend & I discover Marlboro 27s & do a bunch of poppers. We watch the boys play pool. We wander. I’m too drunk and walk away and it’s one of the last nights I’ll sleep on the Upper East. Do I feel emotional? Not really. Everything ends.