I should start from the beginning. We were on the subway and we lost sight of Deirdre because this man decided he needed to tell me his life story. He wouldn't let us go and he was all...big and stuff. Big and threatening. Side note, I was wondering why the subway reminded me of London and then I realised it's because all train/subways stations smell the same. Urine. Mmm. Anyway, the life story man kept talking and talking. Then he asked me about my life story. Heh. I wish I'd had my collar on. I could have told him I was a renegade priest on the run from an angry bishop. Or I stole a relic from the Vatican Vaults and my buyer lived in Grenwich Village.
I digress. A lot. We found Deirdre outside Lincoln Centre and to make a long story short, she and Jude went out last night to a bar. Robert and I knew we shouldn't go in so we sat outside. Hence the park bench in the freezing cold. Robert kept whining and he said he wanted to go in because of his accent. He said he could pick up. Which he proved later when he went for coffee and returned with three young men. I honestly didn't know what to say to that other than 'See you in 4 minutes, Robert'. I don't think he thought that was very funny. I did. It was revenge for the pictures on the airplane.
After Robert's posse left, we were propositioned by some very pushy prostitutes who didn't buy my 'We're undercover priests' story. Little do they know we used to be...well we were never undercover. I may have made up undercover priests. That would be a boring movie. They went away too when they realised we weren't going to give them money.
Things are still alright. They seem to be going very well in fact. And today, Robert is wearing leather pants and all of a sudden no one notices me when we walk beside each other.