I remember so clearly the last time I saw his face. He had run out of the courtyard to catch… Read more The Back of the Van
I remember so clearly the last time I saw his face. He had run out of the courtyard to catch… Read more The Back of the Van
Lately, it seems as though there are more female Uber drivers. They’re all I get these days, which isn’t a… Read more Confession to A Female Uber Driver
A woman of dubious character and age riding a Citibike passes me by while somehow blasting Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” from… Read more Flaccid Fireworks
You can look up a number of past life regression services in New York. A surprising niche exists to cater to… Read more Past Life Regression
There was a time I truly believed Europe was a magical place filled with the mystique of people who knew… Read more L’Europe, Le Trash
Once upon a time, I was domestic. I lived in contented bliss with a boy who was not yet a… Read more The Pains of Getting Fresh Direct Emails
It is possible that the anesthesiologist is more mentally diabolical than even the worst kind of doctor (some argue neurosurgeon).… Read more The Anesthesiologist
I have trouble being alone. I was once a goddamn Olympic gold medalist at it. Something happened to me in… Read more Sandpaper Fuck Hangout Sessions
Henry Jardin, a wizened man in his late thirties made more wizened by his anachronistic name, had only been back… Read more I Thought You Were Moving to Europe
Reynaldo did not set out for his profession–if one could call it a profession–to be freeway flower salesman. As a… Read more The Freeway Flower Salesman