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About San Antonio

So I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cig—total pro. “What’s a girl to do?” she purrs, like Cathy cryin’ to Frank. I’m laughin’—she’s playin’ me, and I’m here for it! Gave me a rush—happy as a clown in a bank vault. But then—BAM—some creep jumps in, tryin’ to haggle her down. Pissed me off! I’m like, “Buddy, this ain’t a flea market!” Almost knifed him—oops, too far? Heh.

Meet singles just like you in Cos Cob

I'm on my millionth rewatch of Mad Men, and I'm once again baffled by how many women are willing to sleep with the two slimiest guys at SCDP.

Btw, Cos-Cob (us) is an odd mix. Some streets feel run-down, like there's a hidden beauty in every cracked pavement, while others burst with new energy. People here? They ain’t pretentious, they’re just themselves. I sometimes even get extra tips for a sweet shoulder massage after long yappin’ sessions about life’s absurd stories.

In Greenwich, Cos Cob fast becoming a foodie haven: ‘A culinary patchwork that works well together’