There's a lot going on out there tonight. I walk right past it all. No eye contact. No friendly smiles. I don't want the smoking bar patrons to know I'm jealous. They already know I'm uninvited, isn't that enough?

"I'm not smoking for a week," I tell myself. I know I'm lying, but I at least am not going to buy a pack until Tuesday. Make money to spend money. I keep walking. Heels. I am surrounded by heels.

It's Sunday and I'm sure all of these people are Industry folks. Music, photography, publishing... the only types out on a Sunday, partying like it's a Friday. Looking for something else to do at 1 A.M. "Industry" has such a connotation in this city. Reminds me of "actress" in L.A.

Staring at a drink-board, I take in the range of beverages: Coffees, teas, beers and liquors. Immediately, I consider the beers. I drink too much. But I can't live enough. I get tea. I keep walking.

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