So last Friday night, my boyfriend and I searched up and down the Upper East Side for a nice, quiet place to sit and grab a few drinks without the overwhelming blaring of music interrupting conversation.
Needless to say, finding a nice, quiet place late on a Friday night was as unrealistic as Justin Bieber showing up on my doorstep. And yes, surprisingly enough, I would like for Justin Bieber to show up on my doorstep.
As we walked up 3rd Avenue, we came across a tiny hole-in-the-wall type of place that looked good enough for us. The name of the place, I can not tell you, perhaps on account of me being two glasses of wine ahead already.
I also can not tell you the exact location, the name of the very nice bartender who charged us for two glasses of wine instead of our six or exactly…
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