From the glamorous, fabulous Manhattanite Uncle Fitzy...
Hey, blonde fixie, pixie - on the L train, I think going to Lit or Sin-e. Your black-and-white prison matron leggings were snagged in the zipper of your deconstructed Mobil gas attendant coveralls. The embroidered name "Yassir" on the coveralls was all the irony I needed to fall in love. I was the guy in the pencil cut jeans reading Walden in its more authoritative Russian translation. I think you were eying my Twisted Sister lunch box. I keep my fav underground house in it...fyi. I should have said hey, but here I am.
If you haven't figured it out--I am being Craigslist for Halloween!!!!!
Wherein Uncle Fitzy, a glamorous gay and fabulous friend who dwells in Manhattan, offers advice:
"Seriously? He is going through a "weird time"? You know what, I'm going to sit by my phone starting tonight. I am going to wait for someone to call me and tell me that they're not going through a weird time. And I have a feeling that I'm going to be waiting a very long time."