“Oh. Wait . . . really?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“I am shocked. You’re a person who . . . goes out?”

“Oh, my God. Rude.”

“No! I don’t mean that you’re, like, a recluse or something. But we’ve been talking every night for, I don’t know, a while, and you’ve never gone out.”

“It’s only been four nights, Eliot.”

“Wait. That can’t be right.”

“It is. It was just Tuesday that we talked for the first time.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve really covered some ground in four nights.”

“I know.”

“So, now it’s a Friday night and you’re bailing on pedicures just so you can do something boring like go out in New York City?”

“Indeed.”

“Where are you going?”

“. . . To a club.”

“. . .”

“What’s with the pointed pause?”

“Nothing. It’s just, I’m learning that . . . you are someone who goes to clubs.”

“So?”

“I’m just . . . recalibrating.”

“Oh, my God. Are you judging me right now?”

“Absolutely not. Like I said, I’m recalibrating. No! I’m integrating this brand-new information about you . . . How often do you go to the club?”

“Maybe once every month or two.”

“And what do you do there?”

“Drink. Dance. Stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“I knew you were going to fixate on the stuff.”

“JD . . . are you telling me that you go to the club to hook up?”

“Eliot.”

“Right! Right! It’s none of my business. Sorry, sorry, I’ll butt out. Man, I haven’t been to a club in years. I kind of forgot that people still did that.”

“Yes, Old Man River, people still go to clubs.”

“I’m learning so much about you tonight, JD.”

“Apparently I’m an open book right now.”

“Okay, then. What’s your name?”

“Minus ten points for stupid questions.”

“Dang! Fair enough. So, you sound like you’re outside. Are you already on your way to the club?”

“Yeah. I’m almost there now. Just a block away.”

“Wait, you walked there?”

“Yeah.”

“And I just learned that we know each other from my neighborhood. And there’s only one real club around here. So . . . hold up. Are you going to Lights Out?”

“No comment.”

“Oh, my God! You are! You’re going to Lights Out. I haven’t been there in years.”

“Eliot?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell me that you’re going to come?”

“I mean . . . am I specifically not invited?”

“It’s a free country. I can’t tell you not to come.”

“Yes, you could.”

“Huh?”

“I know I’m pushy, but if you actually don’t want me to come, of course I won’t.”

“If you come, I’m not going to show you who I am, Eliot.”

“But I might recognize you.”

“It’s a crowded club. There’s no way you’d see me if I didn’t want you to.”