It was a friend's birthday party not too long ago, and it was one of those summer nights when everyone is out, everyone is at one place, and it's so rocking nobody makes a bid to leave.
The bar? Ten people deep. . .order ten drinks when you're up style. . .
My girlfriend and I were too busy complaining when Don came up behind us. "The service is really sucking tonight, isn't it? Wanna guest bartend?" We turned around, and sad but true, we didn't recognize the legend.
He liked it that way best style.
When we asked, it was a simple, "Don."
For anyone who knew him, they will know it was weird little encounters like that which gave him a kick. He liked things a little odd, but simple. Funky, but bizzarely normal.
He passed on April 1st, the only day Manhattan's eternal nightlife jester could have left. A small part of us believes if it was that day, it was on his own terms like everything else style.
Rest in peace, Don. With love, appreciation, and admiration for the world you carved and cultivated.
Don Hill, Forever Young Style.