HH in NYC.

"JD, if your shape-up isn't on point homie, I'm calling you out on it." - Sheena, clothes matcher extraordinaire.

Ahh, I almost forgot I was in New York, where I need to look halfway decent when I step out. I done fell off the radar. Facial hair, broke out, gut....what's going on? Tomorrow I got happy hour with the fellas, we're going to meet up with the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) girls we know. Already, LJ was put on blast on the e-mails we've been sending eachother about tomorrow night.

Can't believe LJ inadvertantly hit on them girls at a party weeks back. His excuse, "it was dark...I didn't know it was them". I wonder who the homies are going to be hittin' on tomorrow night. Anyway, we're probably going to hit up some swanky after-work type of place...something like in the movie, "Hitch". I guess that means I should shave my mug and iron my shirt. Especially if we're going to play the game..."send the girl across the bar a drink". I guess.

First send the drink. Two, eye contact. Three, the walk-over. Four, turn on the charm. Five, grab the digits. I used to win at that game. Back in the day.