It's the summer of 1988, and I'm in New York, watching a beautiful girl in a white bikini climb through a window into her apartment. We've just spent the day together, and she's lost her keys and locked herself out. Once inside, she opens the door, pulling me in and singing something about "dancing with Mr. Brownstone." Nasty habits fill the room: beer bottles, cigarette butts, whiskey. A barely dressed roommate lay on a couch, sleeping off a spell of debauchery. It's a decadent scene, steeped i...
It's the summer of 1988, and I'm in New York, watching a beautiful girl in a white bikini climb through a window into her apartment. We've just spent the day together, and she's lost her keys and locked herself out. Once inside, she opens the door, pulling me in and singing something about "dancing with Mr. Brownstone." Nasty habits fill the room: beer bottles, cigarette butts, whiskey. A barely dressed roommate lay on a couch, sleeping off a spell of debauchery. It's a decadent scene, steeped i...
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