I met him in an elevator, of all places. He’s an artist. He’s from Italy. He’s 30. He somehow managed to wink at the lies I told an old man about being a molecular physicist and work up the courage to wander around Chelsea with me. To tell me about his art. And he emailed.
I have yet to decide whether or not to post it as an Insightful Email from a Rejected Suitor.
Perhaps I shall sleep on it and consider posting it next week. Perhaps I will let him take me for wine.