I decided to do another #TBT post this week, taking you back to the day I first met my boyfriend at a Gogol Bordello concert at the Williamsburg waterfront in Brooklyn.
During the band’s set, he stood in front of me and I clung on to him in order to avoid being toppled over by the jumping, swaying, pushing crowd. In the break between bands, I left the front of the crowd to find my friend Victor, who had come to the concert with me. I had given her my phone, so I ended up wandering around begging someone to let me borrow their phone. Eventually we reconnected and spent the rest of the concert sitting off to the sidelines. Before we left, I knew I had to try to find the “purple shirt guy,” as we referred to him–some young punk kid with a lip ring and a mass of curly hair. When I spotted him leaving the outdoor venue, I ran after him and made small talk. He said his name was Tom or something. I asked him if he wanted to get a cup of coffee sometime. After a moment’s hesitation, he told me he had a girlfriend. Although I appreciated his honesty, I didn’t want to hang around to find out more, so Victor and I bolted for the train station. We noticed that he got on the same train, in the same car. Our eyes met awkwardly. I stepped off the train first and ascended up the stairs into the Union Square terminal. He called out after me and gave me his band’s card, just in case. I looked at the card. His name was Todd.