“What else do you want to do while we’re out here? Find an artist to draw a caricature of us? Nah, that’s a waste of your time.” “Sitting next to you isn’t a waste of my time,” he says. “If you say so . . .” I grab the cash I pocketed from his subway runway and count it out. “Sixty bucks.” “That bad? I thought I did a better job.” “You’re shitting me, right? Sixty bucks is amazing. I’m not surprised, look at you.” “Shall we see how I look after the artist is done with me?” “Hell yeah.” I kiss him, staying in our spot just a little longer.
