Last night, Baby and I ventured to Gowanus, where my friend Kirsten was scheduled to perform her poetry. Maybe it’s too soon to bring Baby out into society? First of all, my metrocard which presumably had $20 had forty cents, so I was scrounging the bus fare in coins from all the passengers, got there an hour late, walked up rickety stairs to an art studio in the projects, scared all the Williamsburg-cool twentysomethings there, dealt with endless slurpee-machine-style poop diapers on the couch where all the said Williamsburg-cool twentysomethings probably make out on, and then had to leave before Kirsten actually left because Baby used up our diaper supply. DUDE, I was exhausted.
Where Dreams Really Do Come True