“How does it go?” he asks. I tell him the first line, it’s all I can remember: Bitter ashes of sunset float down through the sky like dots in a comic… “That’s great. When do I get to hear the rest?” he asks, and I realize that he’s coming on to me. At least he hasn’t given me that terrible line, the one that will make me instantly reject him. He hasn’t asked me if I like younger men. He offers to buy me another drink. I look back and see that Steve and the elongated redhead are kissing passionately in one of the booths. I accept the drink and start to flirt with him. We flirt through two more drinks, and when he asks me to come home with him, I say yes.

Hook helps me on with my coat. I try to appear cool, nonchalant. I am breaking one of my own rules, one I have broken many times before: never go home with someone the first time they invite you. We walk down Bedford Avenue through a starless, cloudy night to Hook’s apartment a few blocks away. I have forgotten the lamp, but I don’t care. Hook lives right above the Buzzards’ Nest Bar, a notorious hangout for the local cops. “At least the building is safe,” he says, grinning at me as he unlocks the door. The music from downstairs is so loud it’s deafening. Strains of Frank Sinatra singing “New York, New York” float up through the floor. “That’s all they play ever since it happened,” he says. “It’s driving me nuts.” He ushers me in before him, shuts the door, and switches on the light. In the stark light of the single bulb, I see how thin he is, supple like a boy. His kitchen consists of an old stove and a table made out of a door and packing crates. On the wall above the table is a large blow-up news photo of the second plane hitting the south tower. Underneath the image, the words END OF THE WORLD OR BEGINNING OF A NEW WORLD ORDER are printed on the photo in red Magic Marker in large block letters. Hook sees me looking at it. “I’m working on a silk screen of that,” he says. There are stacks of packing crates filled with books everywhere. “My castle,” he says deprecatingly, but I tell him I like it.