Chloe claims to have nothing in common with her colleagues but insisted on spending the evening with a dozen of them in an obscure studio apartment in Tribecca. "You know how it is" she says but I really don't. Their semi scripted soap opera monologues about themselves (Kanye West playing in the background) went on for an hour before someone wanted to know what I do. I told him about the joy in finding a perfect balance between Diazepam and Zoloft to make life seem a little less surreal. He didn't ask any more questions.
I woke up in my dress one or two days later, I couldn't tell, and went for a walk through the park. All around were smiling people, if the buildings had crumbled down it could have drowned out the noise.
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