A full day

It’s late, I’m tired and we have too much fun to prepare for tomorrow, so I’m skipping the review of the play we saw tonight, An American in Paris.  I liked it, thought the dancing was fabulous, wasn’t all that engaged in what little story it contained.

We went out to dinner after the show, and the most memorable part was the men’s room.  You don’t see attendants in California anymore.  I wondered if the attendant here was getting paid or if he had to pay the restaurant for the concession–this is New York, nothing is free.

He wouldn’t let me take his photo, but here is the counter full of goodies available to the well groomed gentleman.  Come out of the back, and he turns on the tap and then hands you paper towels.  You can choose a cologne, have a mint or a cigarette, try a bit of candy.  The whole process is anachronistic as hell, but kind of amusing.  Except that it costs you a buck (more for big spenders) just to tinkle. I guess he makes a pretty good living for doing mostly nothing.


Amazingly, the windows in our room open, if only a little bit.  But far enough for me to get my arm and camera out and pointed down.  This is what Times Square looks like at midnight, from the 37th floor.


That’s a whole lot of people just wandering around at midnight in the sweaty hot night.


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