Last night I zoomed over on my little red bike to Bongo for the lobster roll party platter with Cat, Leigh Ann, and Krucoff. While pricey (I guess all lobster rolls are pricey), the rolls were, of course little morsels of gold, and whenever you popped one in your mouth, you were significantly happier than you were moments before. We wished we could have a party where there would be a million lobster rolls and we wouldn't have to share with anyone else.

Then the Dodgeball portion of the night started. For those of you who don't know what Dodgeball is (and don't worry, I barely know what it is), it's a service that links your cell phone up to your friends (and one degree of their friends), sending text messages telling everyone precisely where you are getting drunk on the Lower East Side so they can come and join you and you can all call your dealer together. So Krucoff knew that his friend Wendy was at Half King, and that was the place for us to go (and to promptly leave because it was crowded) after dinner, because it was just four blocks away from Bongo. It was sort of cool to see in action, I thought.

After that we went downtown to 12 Inch, this new bar that was playing godawful slow jam music (I think it's really funny when DJs act all serious when they're mixing, and then you realize they're just playing CDs! Dude, just let the CD play. Leave it alone. It's fine. It's perfect. You can even walk away from it for a while. Go try to pick up a girl or something. ) but the owner was really nice and gave us bowls of a chex mix like substance which we ravaged like animals because none of us had gotten enough lobster rolls to suit our needs.

Then Dennis Crowley stopped by. He's one of the creators of Dodgeball plus he's the guy who wore the Pac Man suit in that cool interactive real life Pac Man game thing in the West Village last week, and Jesus, how many times does one person need to be in the NY Times in one week?

Apparently, twice.

Anyway, he's perfectly lovely, but it was interesting to see that once he showed up, people started popping up out of the woodwork, all through Dodgeball. Lindsay came by, too, but I think she was alerted to our presence just by good old fashioned text messaging. Thank god for the Luddites, I say.

Later on Cat and I went and had a late night (well, 11 PM) slice at Rosario's and we watched all the pretty people walk by, tipsy in their high heels and cropped cargo pants.

"I'm not going to see girls like that for three months," I said.

Also I'm not going to cut my hair for three months, and I'm going to do yoga every day. And I won't be able to use my cellphone unless I drive fifteen minutes down the hill. I wonder what it's going to be like here in three months, when I come back from virtual isolation. Will everyone be walking around, heads down, mesmerized by their cellphones? Is it already that way and I just hadn't noticed yet?

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