Fucking weird

4 Charles Prime Rib

Coincidence level: 5/10 Category: Fucking weird

When I was living in New York, I ventured to every single possible restaurant I could – old or new, iconic or fameless, glitzy or hole in the wall, and just about every type of cuisine you could imagine.

From late night speakeasies where you whispered a password to get into a hot dog joint in the back of a bar, to Andy Warhol’s repurposed living room (secret sushi joint it became, you had to know someone to get the reservation number – and you had to give the name of someone who had already dined there when you called the number), to the splendor of oysters hidden in the beautiful glass backdrop of Grand Central Station;

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Pink taser

Coincidence level: 8/10 Category: Fucking weird

This story is one of those original very uncanny ones. This happened to me a very long time ago and would change the course of my life.

One October, I had been in a stage of entertaining multiple love interests, when I met up again with one of them at a bar one night, unwittingly, because of mutual friends.

“Did you text me?” Gabriella asked me.

“What? I don’t even have your number,” I answered.

“I got a text from someone with your name.”

“What did the text say?” I asked.

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Carly’s credit card

Coincidence level: 5/10 Category: Fucking weird

Back in my party days I was a frequenter of a certain arthouse meets burner meets circus party. Think caged aerial dancers, costumed characters, good DJs, smoke machines, lots of acid, lots of free love on site, and there would often be after parties and after-after parties that would inevitably end in an orgy at someone’s loft. Standard fare.

One night a blond girl pulled me aside, bid me join her and two German guys, and we were off to one of their apartments in Brooklyn for the after party. She insisted we become “best friends” – you know, the party version of actual best friends. She was fun though – full of life, obsessed with India and traveling to exotic destinations.

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World, hold on

Coincidence level: 6/10 Category: Fucking weird

When I did my rounds in Lagos, Portugal I partied PROPER.

I’ll forever cherish the night that Christina kissed me (a German/Dutch beauty with piercing blue eyes like none I’d ever seen before and freckles applied liberally by God, thank GOD), thinking that I was with my boyfriend, a Spaniard I’d been kissing all night, very publicly, who also tried to convince me into a foursome. Anyway.

She apologized after: “I’m sorry I kissed you in front of your boyfriend.”

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Bed bugs in Croatia

Coincidence level: 3/10 Category: Fucking weird

This one’s a short one, but amusing. I’d spent a while in Split, having met up with three good friends of mine on separate occasions.

One night, Nina, Edward and I were trying to decide where to go for dinner, and made a last minute decision to go to a tiny little Italian place. It was quaint, cute, had decent American marketing behind it (so it was clearly owned by someone foreign with money), and unassuming. It was charming really, and kind of out of place for Split. Not the usual Balkan twist or the lovely crustacean fanfare.

The one thing about that place that struck me as interesting was that it had artwork of various insects on the wall. For example, one piece of art (framed and all) was of ants. Another was of spiders and bees or something of the like. They were cute, really, just black and white prints. But the ants were seared into my memory.

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