[[ Well the night was successful. He left the place knowing more people than he did before he went in. Maybe they'll even be friends eventually. He still only has that one friend he wrote those scant few letters to. And that's one-sided as fuck... he still doesn't know what she looks like. Bit like an internet ship-in-the-night actually.
He flops upside down on his couch, feet craned up the wall-- just like he used to do as a child-- and pulls out his phone. Without adding any numbers, because he never got them (smart Benny), he adds the following contacts:
Bottle Blonde Dima 😉 Southern Vet 🐾 Short King Open Shirt 🌶️ Woman...(Irish?)
Yeah. Woman. What else was he meant to put? She didn't give him a name, at least not one he can remember. He can't even look her up. This City is huge. Ugh. He instead opts for jumping on tumblr and posts the following craigslist-like missed connection and hopes for the best: ]]
girl @ the party that asked if my cowhead was real - m4w @selkiemcbride
i was just there tryna make friends and u walked up and gave me a pat without asking. u were cool. grey eyes. sounded a bit irish or some shit. kinda wet looking hair. missed ur name though. hmu. think we could be friends.
