Brooklyn!? How'd I get here!?

I had been invited to hang out with the Photographer on Friday night in Brooklyn to watch one of his friends perform. I just didn't want to travel to Williamsburg at midnight to see his set, even if it was to hang out with a hot guy. So I decided to hang out with #3 and Dad, I felt that hanging out and having dinner and drinks would be so much better. I ran uptown after work and it felt good to hug and see my friends that I hadn't seen in over two weeks, there was a lot of catching up to do. #3 ordered BBQ and popped open $300 worth of wine while we ate and played a fun game of Scrabble. We started talking about Photographer and one thing lead to another and Dad packed us up into the White Whale and off we went to Brooklyn to this bar/restaurant called the Monkey Room. I was little bit nervous because the three off us were way out of our element in some strange bar with a different community of freaks than we're used to. AND, #3 and I were pretty hammered when we got there, luckily Dad was the sober one and had his wits about him. We rolled up to the place like we owned it and I felt like I was in my neighborhood with the occasional punk, scenester, faggot, electro, emo, hipster, fashionistas that I run around with on daily basis. It was already past 1am when we got there and luckily we found him on the balcony with his performer friend and the DJ, which we weren't supposed to be on, we just ran up there like we belonged. He still looked great and I instantly fell in love again, he was so excited to have me there and introduced me to everyone that he could. While I was making small talk with him and Dad, #3 being the fierce sister that he is, made friends with one of the Photographer's female friends and took her to the bar to get some much needed info. He returned less than five minutes later and whispered in my ear.
"You've got a husband standing next to you." He smirked and hugged me.
"Huh!? Que?" I stammered, the whole time smiling like he just told me a joke.
"I asked that girl how the performer and your man knew each other and she said that they used to date!" He said this and a stream of golden light came out of the sky and shone on my face and little butterflies flitted about my head.
"Are you sure!?" I just saw us having a Valentine's dinner and exchanging gifts.
"Honey, of course I am, he's into you!" That's all the reassurance that I needed, let the freaking games begin, I traveled all the way to Brooklyn to find me a man and it was worth it! We had some more drinks and Tequila shots, that were horrible, and those pushed me over the edge. We caught his friends set and his music was interesting, very experimental and loud. It was a quick set and we sat down to have some more drinks, we went outside to have a smoke and talk shop and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, great style and beautiful skin.
"How old are you?" I finally asked the other question that I wanted to know. He looked at me like he was afraid to tell me the real answer and then he stammered.
"27, don't tell anyone that I told you that, I don't tell anyone my age." I felt very privileged to have been given this secret, and I was happy as shit to know that he truly was around my age. After that we went back inside and I was texting Manny, because he wanted to know the truth as well. So he was coaching me with what to ask him to get him to tell me the truth. I also couldn't shake the feeling that he was lying to me about his age, something wasn't right and my powers are usually on about something like that.
"Let me see your ID, I want to look at the picture." I smiled, feeling very proud of myself for coming up with that lie.
" I don't have one, I lost it a while back." He responded quickly, a little too quickly for me.
" Then what are you walking around with for an ID? You had to get in with one?" Checkmate handsome, try to get yourself out of that one.
"My passport." He quietly answered, he went to find it and asked another one of his female friends in his posse to get it for him since she was carrying it in her purse. He handed it to me and told me that the picture wasn't that good. I looked at the damn thing and flipped out when I saw that his birthday was May 1976!
"You're 29!" I screamed at him, a little to loudly.
"Shhh, it's a state of mind."
" 29 is not bad, I'm 28. You're only one year older than me."
" A year and a half." He quickly said. "You just turned 28." I guess he's been doing math, or actually thought about our age difference. A good sign telling me that he thinks about me. At the same time, Manny sent me text to ask him who he was dating.
" So, are you dating anyone at the moment?" I held my breath.
"Yeah, her." He pointed the beautiful Ukrainian girl that had his passport in her purse. My heart stopped, had this been a musical, a chandelier or an helicopter would have fell out of the sky. I would've jumped onto the table and screamed out a showstopping number about my love for him and how I couldn't live without him. Instead, without missing a beat.
"COOL! She's SO beautiful." Ugh, I lied. After so many years of being dead inside, my finally thawed heart was shattered into a million little pieces and spat upon the floor. After that we danced around for a while and I told him that he probably needed to get home, it was well after 3am and he had an 8am call time. We couldn't find him anymore and #3 was a mess so we decided to just call it a night and head home. As we walked back to the car it began to rain, once again New York was intuned with my emotions, showing everyone what I felt on the inside. Dad told me that maybe he was just being nice and networking. #3 said that he was lying, why would his friend have given up that juicey tidbit and not been telling the truth about his exboyfriend? With the rain falling on the White Whale, we ran away from Brooklyn. Dad made me feel better, in his supportive way, and I'm sure that #3 would have been hold back my hair while I cried if he wasn't passed out in the front seat. I bought some water and some chips that would help soak up some of the alcohol that I had ingested, and thought about my imaginary breakup with the man of my dreams. He woke me up with a call in the afternoon to make sure that I was feeling alright, he had wanted to know what had happened to us and to let me know that he had a great time. I told him that I also had a great time, and I did, until I found out that he was either bisexual or liar or possibly both. He's a very talented photographer and we will be using his services at the agency, I'm sure that we'll grow to be great friends. But on Saturday all I wanted to do was sleep. It was snowing and cold and I felt like shit. I stayed home and ordered food and a movie and waited until Roommate came home. He gave me a shoulder to whine on and patted me on my head and told me that everything will be alright. So this morning we got up and we went to brunch with Dan from Project Runway and his roommate, and Flaca came along to. I had three mimosas and a great meal. It was good company and it proved that the thing with Photographer makes for a great brunch story. In the end, that's what life is all about, isn't it?
Maybe I should have one more mimosa, just to make sure....df.