Vincent in his nearly infamous style had for the week taken up residence at the “W” Times Square. Sure it was more of a midtown location, not at all convenient to the financial district that has more that adequate accommodations. Then again he could take the two or the three from the 50th street station down the red line to be where he needed. He liked the Midtown bustle, the shopping and tourists mixing in with an odd batch of locals and aspiring theater types. So as the rest of the team went out in the East Village and Chelsea, he spent the early part of his evening at a Bally’s on 55th and then dinner back across on 54th at Iguana. New York, Manhattan in particular had a claming effect on Vincent. Typically his idle mind wondered, in its boredom searching for distraction. The City was the ultimate distraction, the crowds, the cars, not that DC is small but comparatively it was boring, it had become comfortable and routine. New York unlike many places allowed Vincent to go with the ebb and the flow of his surroundings rather than frantically searching for some type of stimulation, Vincent went from erratic searching and his normal frantic mindset to his temper in check finding something new to do at every turn.
The hotel choice was made for one reason, not because it was new and chic, not because the lobby was more of a bar than a lobby, resembling something out of a rap or pop music video. Granted the lobby and its crowd was a plus, littered with beautiful people, none of which looked like they had to work for a living, or ever in their lives. So while the rest of his entourage basked in the pretentious open spaces of larger hotels, he chose his not for the décor which is magnificent but for the entrance from the street. Door men who looked like they should be at a night club opening a path that was the real reason he chose the “W”, the water rushing overhead through colored lights and down the walls as he walked in off the street and waited for the elevator. Soon Vincent would be back in that lobby with a room full of model types and millionaires not unlike him self sipping mineral water and diet soda. He didn’t have to work anymore either, but he hated golf so something had to fill his days.
Next Chapter Somethings Never Change
Previous Chapter The Modern Love Note, Sweet Nothings, & Sexual Overtures
