ANONYM by CHRISTOPHER LANGE
Nick greeted me at the door, and waved me past the bouncers and coat check.
Friends are good to have.
He returned to the booth to keep playing his set, but handed me a few drink tickets before disappearing up the stairs. So far so good. The music was loud (the system is pretty decent at the Griffin), and I managed to maneuver through the cloud of cologne and perfume that represented the dancefloor, and make it to the bar.
“I’ll have the darkest beer you’ve got”
These places generally have an amazing selection of cocktails, but very poor beer selection. I’m told that dark beer is not a possibility. I remembered having a Blue Moon there once before, so I ordered one of those and found a place to sit back and relax.
The group was the usual sort, annoying financier types and their overdone women composed the majority, but there were a few genuinely interesting people there.
She’s one of them. I don’t know her name, or even remember her face, but she had a book in her purse, a copy of JD Salinger’s 9 Stories.
Most girls that go to out to clubs don’t keep books in their purses.
So, if you ever want to impress someone, wear whatever you like, but keep a good book in your bag.