This note is written on the back of a metallic golden paper that smells a lot of cigarettes. I found it the day after it was written on Broad Street. The style of the note struck me as full of literary possibility… the honesty, the apparent urge to write down an experience, culminating in the BIG question we all face “What to do next?” Having never been drunk in a bar myself, I used to think of the people hanging around bars as a sorry lot, in kind of a dismissive way. This note sounds a bit tormented, and sensitive. Makes me look at the lot in bars just a bit differently.