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We were cheering on marathoners on Central Park South in front of the Essex House. You were wearing a green fleece sweatshirt and your friend's dog was a slutpuppy who kept coming to me for ear rubs. Your friend was vaping constantly and lamenting forgetting her dog's jacket. You were there to cheer for Bill (who I think is likely your boyfriend). Your energy (and those incredible eyes) is what I want across from me at the breakfast table for the rest of eternity. So, if you and Bill end up not working out, or he's just a friend - hit me up.
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