The bartender asks me if I always write postcards. I say yes. I tell her I'm on an "art" shoot, here to take pictures. I'm a little buzzed and pull out the tube pinhole camera I fashioned on the plane, flying here. She believes that this contraption actually is a camera, not many people do. I ask her about cheap hotels in the area, because I still haven't been able to connect with the person I am supposed to be staying with. By now I have been in this bar for many hours and many beers. It is dark out. I have to get out of here. as I gather up my stuff and head out into the street, she hands me a note. It reads "if you can't find your friend, you can spend the night on the sofa in my living room" with her address on it, and at the bottom, "send me a postcard". It is such a nice gesture and unexpected, that I suddenly have a great feeling about this city. Welcome to New York. Next