SML and I took another trip to New York this weekend, hoping it would allow us to see more of the city. As we ventured out, the city seemed to grow five sizes larger than I remembered it being, becoming a lot less manageable.  We wanted to go out on the town this trip, something we haven't been able to get into since moving to the east coast.  

The nightlife in New York is certainly alive, but I chose a dive bar in the West Village, a place with 'Boots' in the name thinking it would be filled with cowboys, or at the very least a mechanical bull.  Instead of those things I found a dark room with barrels for tables and antlers hanging on the wall, all pulsating from the Techno music.  

SML and I nestled into a corner with wide eyes, gulping down our drinks so we could make our escape when an older gentleman put his arm around SML and began a conversation.  I smiled and nodded at the two because I couldn't hear anything, but SML nodded a stern no instead and guided us to the other side of the room prompting me to ask, "What did he say?"

"He offered me crack and sex." 

"He did?  But he's so old." 

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