Picture it. It's 2008 in New York City and Heather and I are havin a brew. The place: The Hog Pit in the Meat Packing District. It's our third appearance.
We are looking good if I do say so myself. Heather is sporting a new shirt while I break in some new shoes. We just finished up a great meal at Vegetarian Paradise 2, that was indeed, a vegetarian's paradise.
The night starts rocky with an old Harley Davidson biker hitting on us. He actually diverted all of the cute boys away. He talked about his life which neither of us cared to hear...although a nice guy...we wanted someone a bit of our own age...and without a braided ponytail.
It was two boys from Sweden that ended up saving us. Now if you remember right, our second appearance brought us the Denmark boys. I'm beginning to think: Scandinavians love the Hog Pit.
It was a fun night. Full of jukeboxes, language deciphering and learning that cops don't carry guns in Sweden (they actually have to register for them). They were fun with cute accents. Got to love that.
But unfortunately for us, the boys had to head back. It was like John sang, "these birds have flown."