The above photo was taken about a week before I left California for New York. I was getting a drink with my friend George, and in complete denial of what I was about to do. I nonchalantly told friends from work that it was simply a time for change and everyone was impressed with my casual demeanor. I was waiting for George to bring me a second (or third) martini, because as you all can see, I had just polished one off. I remember for that second when he left to walk across that large scape of that scroungy, trendy, over priced bar in San Francisco; I was alone and in silence for a moment. I took it all in and whispered to myself..."better get used to it, trooper."
...but I haven't really been alone.
When we got there it was so packed that a lady standing near us started complaining about the capacity. "You know she got to many people up in here..." She scoffed, referring to Ms. Sylvia herself as if she alone was responsible for the weight of the room. Although, Sylvia can often be found sitting near the bar in her famous restaurant greeting guests and chatting up the bartender, I doubted she was there that night. Monica and I humored the lady and started up a whole conversation that somehow led to me and D. The lady's unsolicited advice went something like this, " Well, if he ever puts his hands on you..." I shut off all hearing valves after that one. (For some reason that's the third person to give me advice about D beating me senseless....not only do they have the wrong guy, it's proof that not many people in my life know my history with men...) Eventually, the warrior against domestic violence and her husband were seated and all in all she was extremely nice to talk to... 
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