Part of why I chose to live in Brooklyn was to start fresh. To avoid walking past this building or that and think “oh, that used to be…”
But nostalgia comes anyway. Sometimes because I go looking for it. Case in point: Stingy Lulu’s. It was my spot.
I hung out there a ton circa 1995-97. My good friend S, who I knew from college, and I went there often, usually weekly. We got to know one of the staff members pretty well, Harlow. She was probably the first transgender person I had gotten to know. Her vulnerability was apparent, as was her humor.
S and I were 21, 22. I usually drank a cocktail with pureed strawberries and cheap Champagne. It all seemed so exotic then. I’m trying to find a more original way to say “the world was our oyster” but right now, I can’t. It fits.