...and then there are the late night secret meetings unknown to most, where the only warmth in the crisp cool winter wind is the electric sparks created by the rubbing together of two noders, rekindling the suppressed deviance on 42nd Street.

It's the middle of the night and I'm gonna be up anyway. I was detained from attending the earlier noder gathering and I had been wanting to meet the legendary WonkoDSane (only because there's a chance he can hook me up with that bodacious babe, impishlaugh, of course) for some time now, so I trek from my quaint Bronx abode to that other Big Bad Borough. I finally got a peek a Wicker's stylin party pad, met his roommate, played with his snake, grabbed some Altoids, and since Scott and I were causing a disturbance we got thrown out into the cold street to take our business elsewhere. Sheesh. *evil grin*

Sitting in the train station it felt like mid-day as trains galore passed by. Of course none of them were ours, and all I could hear coming out of Scott's mouth was how badly he wanted to see grand central, and how badly his boots were hurting him so he didn't want to walk around too much. Well, fine - so much for cruising for prostitutes. Hmph.

We pass the time looking at some interesting polaroids. At some point on our journey Scott plays with my balls. Something is mentioned about assholes-for-eyes, and in my endless pit of entertainment of a bag, I whip out a glossy with a picture of some sculpture of a mage-looking doll with Anal-eyes. Our ride is relatively uneventful otherwise: not too many crazy people, the usual too many homeless people, and a full assortment of vomit, urine, and trash strewn throughout the stations. He definitely had the average New Yorker's subway experience.

Finally! It's about 3:45 AM and we get to the one destination Scott had craved seeing - Grand Central Station -- only...it's roped off with a sign that says it's closed nightly from 1:30-5 AM.


We go off in search of a bathroom for Scott and food to eat. Stopping at the big arse ritzy Hyatt hotel next door, Scott works his southern charm to woo a bored security guard into letting him use the toilet and I plop down in the lobby in the MOST AMAZINGLY CUSHY armchair. The minute Scott comes out and joins me on the couch (remember pervs -- I'm *not* on the couch!) the uber bored security guard immediately rushes over to us to chase us out since the lounge area is closed. Scott breaks out the heavy southern accent telling the guard to chill out and secures us a minute or two of rest. Then I have to leave the cushy chair and the rest of the night just isn't quite the same.

Scott seems perplexed that not every deli we encounter has a seating area. We check McDonald's..they're not serving breakfast yet (Scott wants to get "hotcakes" or whatever they're called down south) and their seating area is closed off. We piffle off to the next deli, where we're treated like royalty.

I settle for a simple toasted bagel with butter, an orange that doesn't want to be eaten, and VitaWater. Scott goes for a Kiwi-Strawberry Snapple (how can someone *not* have had it before?), a bag of chips, bacon, egg and cheese on a roll with mayo, and caps it off by giving into a craving for chocolate cake. What a combo, folks. That there's our WonkoDSane. :)

Up until we ate it had been mostly Scott yankin my chain and throwing one liners at me. I hadn't the energy to respond, my mind was blank. WonkoDSane was getting the best of me. My sarcastic wit chip was broken. Or perhaps it was frozen. The wind that had been missing most of the day was in full effect, freezing the two of us, and alas, the only thing that kept us warm was the constant verbal jabs exchanged (once I was warm and had fuel in my system, I gave him a few good right hooks to make up for it all)...nothing deviant like I had alluded to in the beginning. Well, maybe -- but maybe I was sworn to secrecy. After all, Scott was kind enough to buy me breakfast (or perhaps it's was just because he was being a southern chauvanistic pig). Either way, my poor unemployed self thought it was the sweetest thing he could have done, and I rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. I suppose the comedy show I provided (which I'm sure Scott will node) on our way out the deli was worth the price. I will tell you this though, kids, Deeahblita is a klutz.

Tummies full, 5 AM nearing, we trekked back through horrid winds to Grand Central to fine the velvet rope still in place, enforced by an annoyed looking cop in a golf cart keeping the public at bay. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock...and they're off. We finally get to the main area, void of most human life and Scott gets excited, replaying scenes from a movie in his head. I turn to him and ask a very Dee question, "So, now that you're here does it make your cock hard?" Scott replies a simple, "No, but it makes me feel all warm inside!" Ahh, these southern boys. They might even be able to humble a girl like me.

Scott's thirst quenched and him not wanting to walk around anymore, I suggest we hit easyEverything, the new internet cafe in Times Square. It's cheap, it's warm, it's near the Port Authority and it has 'puters! Scott lasts all of 30 minutes in which he takes care of using up his votes and doing some editorial duties and then promptly falls asleep at the keyboard, encouraging me to keep typing. I take advantage of the time to set up a DeeCam and speak to a lover online for a bit, to his enjoyment. By the time I finally get everything set up and cozy, it's time to head out to the bus.

We crawl the block to the bus terminal and wait for about 15 minutes in which I watch a very sleepy Scott sway back and forth in a non-existant wind. His balance was gone. He was falling asleep standing up. Strangest of all was that everyone was keeping a few feet away from him. I guess he looked intimidating. *stifling a giggle* I'm falling asleep leaning over the metal divider and Scott senses possible readiness outside, so we abruptly hug goodbye, and I scurry on home, not looking back. *sigh*

May your catch-up sleep be deep and your writeup mocking me be kind. It was a pleasure. ~ dee.

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