1 : 3 0 P M OLD TIMES, NEW MONEY. The next day, Rachel said she needed to go shopping, so we went looking around Soho. We were just walking by boutique, admiring this black bag in the window. Fifteen minutes later, she walked out of the store with it. "That bag costs more than my rent," I said. She didn't laugh, instead she just looked kind of uncomfortable. I tried to change the subject. "How did your meetings go?" I asked. She said that the clients were really happy with her work and have agreed to sign on to her firm. "That's great," I said, "We should totally celebrate tonight, my friend is playing at this club in the East Village, it's a lot like Gordy's. I think we should check it out." "Wow Phoebs." She was the only one allowed to call me that. "It sounds just like old times." "But, I was thinking, I've heard a lot about this place called 44 it's at the Royalton, have you heard of it?" Of course I'd heard of it. Every Ad Exec and PR person in New York knew about 44. "I don't know Rach..." "Please," she said. "I told some of the clients that I'd be there tonight at ten."