A soap opera writer gets hit on.
Or at least, her connectbio says she’s a soap opera writer. People can hack those things pretty easily, so you never actually know when you pen them.
All I can do is watch from across the bar. She keeps ordering Seven & Sevens as a man in a posh LCD Overcoat continues to make double entendres about string theory. It is surprising how well I can hear them.
Suddenly they turn in my direction. My voyeurism appears compromised, until I realize they are just staring at the person behind me, who I soon find out has been staring at me for quite a while. I realize we are caught in a voyeurism triangle of sorts and find it quite exhilarating.
We light electronic cigars simultaneously, and spend a few hours staring at one another.
Finally, I say “This has been quite awkward” and leave, hoping they realize I was trying to be ironic.
Also there was a doctor. He was playing the bongos in a blue corner somewhere as I left.