Congratulations on Finding Out Who Has the Best Drugs!

New York City is a weird place. Even though drugs are everywhere in it, in the sewers and the subway stations and even inside of homeless people’s bodies, it’s kind of hard to find out where the best drugs are, especially if you’re new in town.

So when you roll into New York in your cowboy hat and big old boots and ask someone on the street where to find the best drugs he’ll look at you like you’re crazy.

“You a cop?” he’ll ask you, horrified at your forwardness.

“Nope. Just an American,” you’ll say, giving him a firm handshake just the way your daddy taught you.

That handshake will net you the name of this guy the first guy knows who sells awesome drugs. You’ll show up at his place with that chisel jaw and handshake the name of his best dealer out of him and so on and so fourth until you arrive at The Top.

You’ll know it’s The Top because it will be, quite literally, on the top of one of the tallest buildings in the city, way above where the cops can get their faggot ass helicopters, near where planes soar and where eagles make dreams take flight.

You’ll stride through the marble halls as if you belong there, and none of the men in suits or expensive prostitutes socializing there will question your presence. You’ll immediately seem like one of them, like you belong. You’ll shake hands, pick up drinks, even mix a few in one of the penthouse’s many bars, handing them off to attractive women and important men wherever due.

After weaving your way through these hallowed halls for what seems like a week (but will, in fact, be less than four days) you’ll finally arrive in a room with a red chaise lounge, a bed with a canopy and a grand piano. You’ll have arrived at the place in New York with the very best drugs.

A man in a velour robe will step out from behind a dressing curtain and give you a two finger salute.

“Can I help you, sir?” he’ll purr, smiling like he’s known you for years.

“You holding?” you’ll ask, scratching your buttocks.

“You a cop?” he’ll respond, running his hand across your cheek. You’ll shake your head and he’ll smile. “Prove it,” he’ll say, dropping the robe and exposing his half erect penis.

You’ll get to your knees and start working and before long you’ll be relaxing with him on his chaise lounge while he plays his grand piano, enjoying the best drugs in New York City, which is to say the best drugs in the whole wide world.

Congratulations on Finding Out Who Has the Best Drugs!

Congratulations on Working With What You've Got!

You’re new in New York and as a result you spend most of your time and money hopping from club to club trying to make friends and see as much of “the scene” as possible.

You’ve been hopping from Gunfight! show to Gunfight! show over the last week and a half, smoking clove cigarettes, wearing giant ironic sunglasses and spending the night in whatever Greenpoint bar doesn’t throw you out after you’ve struck out on all the women there and started getting bitchy.

But this is going to be different. I mean, if it wasn’t why would we bother writing about it?

Tonight, after two months of failed attempts, you’re going to meet someone. Their name will be Sammie, and Sammie will have the nicest tits you’ve ever seen.

“Nice tits!” you’ll shout across the bar.

Sammie will act like you didn’t say anything at all, like you’re not even there. This is exactly what you expected, so it won’t hurt you too much. The break will come when you down your drink, hang your head, and hear Sing Me Spanish Techno by The New Pornographers come on the PA.

“I fucking love this song,” you’ll mutter to yourself, just within earshot of Sammie.

Sammie will be instantly intrigued, and will saunter up to you on four inch heels and posture a few feet away, giving you a spectacular view of cleavage. You’ll amaze the both of you by looking straight at Sammie’s face, despite the welcome distraction, while the two of you discuss The New Pornographers for over an hour.

After that you and Sammie will leave the bar for your loft, which is what you call your studio apartment.

By the time the two of you arrive sparks will already be starting to fly, and you’ll start making out between inserting your key into the door and turning it. Sammie will be laughing, a husky, rich sound that makes you feel like the world is okay.

It’s been so long since your last sexual encounter that you’ll almost be bursting out of your pants when Sammie drags you into your apartment and hurls you down on your futon with remarkable force. After that you’ll start the most remarkable romp of your entire life with this person you barely know.

Time will blur together, and you won’t be able to map the events that lead to your penis being in Sammie’s mouth. Even once your in there, you’ll keep losing time against your will. You’ll faintly try to grasp as every second that goes by as Sammy treats you as you’ve always dreamed of being treated. Only your orgasm will remain in your mind once the experience has ended. Beginning and ending, alpha and omega. Your passion will be so powerful that everything else will elude you.

And so it will go when Sammie’s dress drops and you see that Sammie has a penis. A pretty nice one, too. Not enormous, not small. Very well shaped. It goes well with the rest of Sammie’s body, too. You won’t be able to tell if any of it is surgically altered or if Sammie’s just some kind of incredible freak.

You’ll have a moment of homophobic panic where you realize what just happened and what Sammie expects you to do before a great calm washes over you and you remember how right that felt. How right you feel now. And you kiss Sammie on the mouth and get on your knees to clumsily reciprocate.

The next day you won’t tell a soul, but you’ll treasure the experience, and Sammie will burn in your mind. Even the simplest task will elicit thoughts you’ve spent your life fearing. You’ll stare at the number Sammie wrote on a post it and slapped on your fridge for what seems like an eternity before you dial and Sammie answers, laughing, and the two of you arrange a date.

As for Sammie, Sammie will show up at our office, deliver coffee, answer phones, and foretell several cataclysms before receiving your call at 2 PM and opting to take a chance on that clumsy, cute boy from last night. The two of you will agree to meet in the Upper East Side, for a change of pace.

Congratulations on working with what you’ve got. This is going to be the start of something beautiful.