TONIGHT WE ALL MET AT KROM BAR . . .

. . . everyone needed it.

I was the first one there. I approached the bar and the bartender shook my hand. “Same thing you always get?”

I said, “Yeah, man . . .” and felt that warmth you feel when you’re remembered.

He placed a sparkling water with orange bitters upon the bar in front of me. I said, “Where’s our mutual friend?”— meaning my friend Alina the Ukrainian Girl who owns the place.

“She left for her hometown in Ukraine today. She won’t be back for 10 days.” We both despaired at that a little. I told him I was going to take the Red Room in the back and he said, “It’s all yours.”

One by one, my fellow Kromlings materialized. It was rarefied air. Behold . . .

(You may be wondering what it’s like to be the coolest people in any given place we happen to occupy. The answer is that it isn’t easy . . .)

At one point the other bartender came into our little room to refill our little drinks. I said, “Do you remember me?”

She said, “Of course. You’re Ryan.”

“Thank God . . . I just wanted everyone else to hear you say that, to prove that I am famous here.”

My friends rolled their eyes and mercilessly bullied me in that loving way, and again I felt a warmth.

Afterward, Elina and I took the M2 tram back to Alexanderplatz. I hugged her good-bye and asked her to text me when she got home (which, as usual, she did not do!). I descended the stairs and caught the U2 back to Schöneberg. En route, I texted Alina and Julia . . .

Sweet dreams!! :,)