Shortly after sending a lengthy and angsty email at 1:30 am, received phone call from San Francisco.
A drunken marketing manager who thinks I'm the berries serenaded me with Beatle's lyrics while dancing barefoot in the park, thanking his lucky stars he found me.
Then a Mexican singer named Sabbath and a barful of suits in an Irish pub sang Sweet Caroline at the top of their lungs to "that chick in New Yawk!" via cellphone over Black and Tans.
This can't be real, can it?
For some unknown reason, angsty email was never received.
My life is funny :)