I've been here two days and I am quite clearly still the newest person on the whole island of Manhattan. We're at a costume party on the Upper East Side and I'm wearing my battered leather jacket and a trilby lent to me by Quentin, because needless to say I didn't have anything even vaguely glamorous in my rucksack. The party is confusing me because now I think everybody here drinks martinis and dresses like Mad Men characters all the time. Maybe they do?
Jeff and I eat pretzels and watch the inimitable Quentin flit around the apartment like a social butterfly. He moved here only three months ago from Dublin and it's like he's been here all his life.
I want to be a New Yorker, too, I think to myself. In fact, I won't be happy until New York shows up at this party wearing an I ♥ Annie t-shirt.