Our Story
(Bryan's Version)
I had just moved to Manhattan in early 2016. Seeking new opportunities. New challenges. I was living my version of Bright Lights, Big City and loving it.
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But deep down, I yearned for something more.
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Cut to mid-summer. It was a clear black night, a clear white moon. Mikey and I had just consumed dinner at Mission Cantina (RIP). We wandered over to Miss Lily's to get wild.
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We walked in and it was thick with tension. The music was loud. We wobbled over to a group of friends in the back booth.
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As I passed the dance floor, I was blinded by her light. Illuminated beneath a blue disco beam was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. I rubbed my eyes.
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Everything stopped. Everyone else disappeared.
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She was like an angel, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a dress. I could tell she was different. I asked my friends who she was. They replied, "that's Wendy."
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I had to talk to her. To vibe with her.
I waited patiently for the right time. Later that night I was finally rewarded.
I was at the bar being ignored by the bartender, when Wendy suddenly appeared behind me. I leaned back and asked, "can I get you something?"
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She touched my arm, looked me in the eye and said, "I want a shot of Jameson."
And in that moment, I found my purpose.