New York City was covered in august sweat, drunk and stinky from the summer heat. The subway rats could barely move, unimpressed with gluten-free organic pizza crusts from Whole Foods. The rats reluctantly relocated their sly long tales from heated tracks into conditioned subway cars, leaving their cool tales hanging next to smelly feet of … More A Trip to the Hamptons. Real n’ Weird
I thought that an oxymoron frenemy was fiction until I met Nikki at Penthouse. She was one of the few real natural blonds, a vanilla leaf in bitches brew of hot Puerto Ricans, Brazilians and other exotic blends. Nikki and I had things in common — a law degree, past experience of corporate jobs and … More Nuclear Frenemy
Days went by, time flew, I kept descending, descending deeper down the adventure hole, entangling myself in an intricate seaweed of NYC life. Descending, free falling. When a scuba diver descends, he enters a peace land, mute kingdom of meditative tranquility. Peace forces its way upon thee in the land of sea. Everything becomes tranquil … More Deeper Down the Adventure Hole
I had a few year tradition of celebrating the Independence Day with a twist. It would start as the traditional celebration, watering hot dogs, BBQ meat skewers and corn with cheap lager and wine at a friend’s backyard or rooftop, discussing how many Netflix shows I’d watched, reflecting on how Americanized I was becoming. Then … More Fourth of July in Gotham City
Dimmed lights. Fancy dinnerware, large dinner plates with a printed logo of Robert’s Steakhouse. I sit on the second floor of Robert’s Steakhouse at Penthouse, dressed in a long shiny blue gown, working on a huge portion of medium-rare steak, slowly chewing small juicy meat bites, sipping a glass of fine red. It’s only eight … More Hope of Deliverance
My heart is pounding, a stranger is knocking on the door, a woodpecker is hammering on the tree, the beats of my heart are intertwined with the spontaneous and neurotic sounds of the city. The sounds of sirens, ascending and fading, crazy loud neighbors from downstairs, the invisible couple behind the wall producing loud sex … More Do Holdens Caulfields grow up?
The afternoon sun is baking drunk pies on Bourbon street. Neon signs are always on. The street is swarming with curious tourists, easy going couples, cheerful bachelorettes and bachelors sipping their tall Hurricanes. In the dressing room of Scores on Bourbon street I meet the most thrilling girls in the world. Dancers. Hustlers. Artists. MamaWolves. … More Adventures in Southlandia