FOMO

One of the main goals of this whole shindig is to reconnect with folks I haven't seen in a while. Many of you live far away from NYC, dislike large gatherings, or are welcoming a new baby into your lives (a weirdly large number of you, actually). If, for whatever reason, you can't make it to the party, I would still love to hear from you.

If you're the type to talk it out, please call (512) 522-7336‬ and leave me a voicemail. I promise I won't pick up! And if you're more of a writer, please drop me a line at evanfortybarden at gmail to share a fond memory, what you think of my whole deal, or a time I was wrong about something. Anything, really. I miss you and it'll be really nice to hear from you.

Of course, you are always encouraged to just call or text my ass, but maybe you'd prefer something that feels a bit more intentional, so that's what these options are for. Plus, you won't need to worry about interrupting me while I yell at someone for parking in a bike lane.

More of a card person? Do whatever you want! You have my address.

a strange, bald man with glasses, nearly forty years old, sits at a hightop table in a comedy club, beckoning you to contact him. in white text to the left of him, it reads, 'Please, drop me a line.' he begs, like a pathetic loser.