First night

Moving, then travelling without moving. Lying in bed, eating Nutella and strawberries. Watching a Woody Allen flick. Discussing. Having a laugh. Brushing teeth together. Listening to U2.

So far, it works.

Knives

What I learned to like about many establishments around the world is their door policy hypocrisy. I cannot take my Swiss knife in: would I want to stab somebody, I'm to use in-house cutlery provided courtesy of the very same establishment. A beer glass is also proven to work just fine ever since Trainspotting.

What a convenience!

There can always be a Plan B if one's eager to enter: it's fine to pass the knife onto the chick one's with — who's gonna care to check her all-inclusive handbag?

Rightie-o. What is there to like?

When I don't feel like going to a place, I let them find the knife and tell them I cannot let them keep it for me while I'm there. Naturally, they turn me down and I leave, not hesitating for a single second. I'm happy to leave the party behind — as long as the girl I wanna stay with comes along. A gamble? Works flawlessly.

Tox

6:45 PM. I'm falling asleep in my car across the street from a jazz club. In and out of consciousness, being woken up twice in minutes by phone calls, only to drop off momentarily.

Thirty minutes later. Pulling myself together, sitting in a club on a river bank. Green tea, please. The last work-related phone call of the day: I'll sell you whatever you want as long as you accept my price and conditions. Is that OK with you? Watching the boats passing by, slowly waking up. The band starts to play, a bit too indie for my liking. Drowning in thoughts.

She's here shortly. Vodka Red Bull? Right, anytime babe. Thank you, dear Absolut, for all those flavours you make.

Talking about Pittsburgh and New York, boys and girls, and about life in general. I'm feeling so good, I find myself admitting. Having a smoke and a laugh on a sundeck. The sun has set. Another band started playing.

Way past midnight, considering options. A cab, my place, a pizza order over the phone. Vodka orange and one of those sugary movies about the city that never sleeps. This is the first time she's stayed over, I realise as I'm drifting off hours later.

Very leisurely greeting a new day. A stroll about, guiding her through the neighbourhood. English breakfast in the best coffee place around. Having enough time, wandering through the city centre back to the spot I left my car last night. Driving her home, Hendrix is playing on a radio.

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright she says it's alright
Take anything you want from me,
Anything.

For every detox, there must be a tox first. And boy, am I loving it!

Central Park

Here again. Saturday midday, sunshine is filling the baseball field nearby. Kids are screaming. We're sitting on a bench, I'm holding her tenderly over the shoulders and smiling. I'm in a mood, talking too much — and too much shit, too. Earthy, vulgar, jolly. She laughs — at me and with me — and I know that this is a moment of a true connection, a priceless instant that keeps us going on. And going on together.