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.
But deep down, I yearned for something more.
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.
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.
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.
Everything stopped. Everyone else disappeared.
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."
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?"
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.