We got out of the cab on the corner of Central Park West. "Keep the change," I said, handing the swarthy italian behind the wheel a wad of twenties. We were drunker than I'd thought. "They sure make them strong," she giggled, and my arm was around her shoulders. I smiled, saying nothing. We first kissed in the elevator to the seventeenth floor.
I unlocked my apartment and went inside. She followed me. The place was dark. "I have rolling rock brand beer, bawls energy drinks and code red," I said, moving for the lightswitch. I flipped it, revealing my swinging bachelor pad complete with ALL consoles, sick wallscrolls, tons of glass display cases full of toys and DVDs of all my favorite shows. "See anything you like?" I asked. "My parents will be gone all weekend."
She made a face. I strode confidently to the bar, pouring myself a tumbler of Jack. "I can't read facial cues," I explained. "Autism."
