"I would have made some joke about carpet - because of what you said about that ad - only there's no carpet in here and so I thought it would probably just make me sound like a crazy person."

Ned, too, is nervous, but it's muted somewhat by the alcohol in his system, and by Ginsberg's obvious, corresponding nerves. Twisting the damp towel between his hands he comes a step or two closer and suddenly it all seems to be happening terribly fast. But there's no backing down now, and even if he could, he wouldn't want to.

So he says, in a low voice, "I think I... might kiss you now. If. That's alright with you." He's close enough that he can count the small beads of water that are still forming at the tips of Ginsberg's rather messy curls.