Language lessons.
September 21st 2006 It’s half-past ten when I jump in the shower and a quarter to twelve when I’m finishing dinner, and at a few minutes shy of two in the morning, Karla and Patrick buzz the bell, ready for a night on the town. I’m really, really too old for this. Really. Even in New York - no stranger to nightlife, let it be known - my best hard-drinking days were a distant, fuzzy memory by the time I’d l
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