i dreamt...

I spent 45 some minutes in Hakkasan talking to pretty twenty something sorority type who i think is a hooker until we get back up to her room and i ask how much she's going to cost and she throws me out. Turns out she just wanted to screw me for nothing. Go figure.

I head back to Hakkasan, sexually frustrated and more than a little bit confused by the strange turn of events and bizarre cultural moment we find ourselves in where confessing to a woman that you're so attracted to her you're willing to pay her for sexual contact is in fact insulting.

Spent the next few hours drinking bourbon and beer and wondering half aloud "What would E.L. Borgnine do?"

Concluded that what E.L. Borgnine would do would be to start writing sexually explicit and solicitous haiku on cocktail napkins and slipping them to the pretty bartender in heavy blue eyeliner, who was cute and wearing pinstriped charcoal grey slacks which are a weakness for which I am very very weak.

As i grabbed my pen and requested for a napkin, I thought of you.

And I woke up crying profound tears of guilt