going down?

so i went to meet my friend billy at this bar in the middle of times square on friday night. always a sketchy prospect because of you get the T.G.I.F crowd, and in that part of town it�s all investment bankers, lawyers and other money types. not that i'm opposed to money types, or lawyers, or even investment bankers. except that these were the frat boys in suits and loosened ties and ladies with whatever hairstyle jennifer aniston is sporting these days. of course, god only knows what they thought of me in my jeans, runners, dirty old sweater and wool toque, drinking gimlet after gimlet, but that�s beside the point. the point is that i was waiting for billy for about 30 minutes getting all agitated that he made me go to this creepy place. then i remembered that i now have a mobile phone and could call and find out where he was. so i called him. and guess what? he was stuck in the elevator on his way up to the bar (which if you can't tell from my fine writing is on the 15th floor of a hotel.)

here is billy stuck between the 14th and 15th floors.

so I sat there drinking, while billy stood there drinking. me with all the mid-town shannons and garys at the bar, and he with giselle and brigitte (no joke)in the elevator. It took an hour and a half to get them out, by which point I had drank so many gimlets I needed to go home.

It�s funny how I write this story and realize it�s not very interesting. Oh well.