Our feet dangling off the edge, the sounds from Tubby Hooks to the north, the lights from the George Washington Bridge to the south, and the Hudson River below wide and across to the shores of New Jersey, he asked if I had knew what time it was. "No, I don't wear a watch" "Me neither, " he replied. Then I reminded him he had the day off Monday, and I didn't have to work til 6pm, so we laughed. I kissed him lightly in the dark, and fed him a small scoop of ice cream. Earlier we had eaten our dinner on a bench looking out at the Harlem River, something I had never seen before. We started off the evening up on his rooftop, him pointing things out in various directions as the sky got dimmer, and the sun was only visible from the colorful reflections against the clouds. We finally went downstairs, poked our heads into a Dominican all-you-can-eat place, and rushed out as he saw I couldn't find any of the pans containing non-meat dishes. But after teasing me a bit, we went back in, I looked more closely, and we filled up two to-go pans, and took a slow walk through the neighborhood, then into the park. CrazyFrenchMan talks non-stop, but in this joyous isn't-everything-interesting manner that is very infectious. At one point, a small child ran past us, no more than 3, and then his slightly older sister approached, running slower, and he egged her on. "C'mon, get a move on! Catch up; you can do it!" The kids giggled, I giggled, and he grabbed my shoulder and we kept on our way.

So later, after leaving that park in search of ice cream, standing in the Bodega, some women were giggling and dancing as they tried to pass us to get to the counter. Of course our butts collided, they laughed uproariously and CrazyFrenchMan and I looked at each other and laughed along with them. By the time I paid for the pint, one woman was dancing with him, and as I tried to pass, she grabbed me and we did a few steps, the whole Bodega clapping and laughing. We escaped onto the sidewalk, and again his arm across my shoulder as he led me past the teens rolling joints, towards the sounds of Tubby Hooks, some sort of club on the water. Once there, we headed south and he pushed me through an opening in the fence, and we walked about 20 yards on some path just behind what must have been a small harbour, as I could see silhouettes of boats. Then he found a spot, and we climbed onto some wood planks at the water's edge, and had some time away from it all, just the two of us, hearing the sounds off in the distance, leaning against each other, the occasionaly kiss, and the constant light touching of each other's warm bodies as we worked on the pint of ice cream.