The Walk of Shame
Last night was a big of a logistical rigamarole. I met my old friend Imri at Penn Station, he’d come up from Philly to DJ at The Tunnel. It’s a huge famous club, but I found it a bit mangey, myself.

Poor Imri spent the whole night waiting to spin records…it never did end up happening. In part because something sort of funny happened (it’s a series of five photos with the story in the bottom caption).