When in Bryant Park...(as I am daily)
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Morning Tai Chi classes, Tue/Thur 7am;
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Lunch on the lawn;
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The reading 'room' (shelves of books and reserved tables on the 42nd Street side)
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Movies on the lawn (the original Superman was recently featured).
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Holiday season ice skating and kiosk shopping...oogling over the Sex and the City ladies as they are filmed...
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And the rogue brother- the outdoor Cafe and Bar. Although there is never a line to get in- the two virile 'bouncers' will make you walk around and through the sectioned off line. They will check your ID (if you live in NYC, you understand the rarity of this practice) and stamp a blue 'OK' on your hand.
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Who do these people think they are? I have to get in a line of imaginary people to be branded, pay $12 for a glass of grocery store wine and negotiate my way through a pack of blood thirsty, wedding ring donning businessmen who awkwardly oogle me- even when I'm wearing my "I clearly haven't been able to pick up my dry cleaning navy J.Crew suit." (To give you a better idea of how I look and feel about this suit, the Chinese woman who did my manicure yesterday corrected, "You no this color. Too pink. You like this," lifting a modest nude). Navy suit aside, if you want to feel better about yourself, go to the Bryant Park Bar and Cafe.
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Julia, Monica and I found ourselves wedged between a tree and a hawaiian shirted man who was inching closer at an alarming rate. If I had had one more glass of wine in me by the time he made contact with Monica's derriere, I would have said something. She took ownership,
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"Excuse me?? You're kind of creeping me out here. Why are you on me?"
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*Mumbles, looks around- apologizes*
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A few moments later, we're back to square one with the drifter.
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We opt for plan B: relocation.
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Photo: Wiki Images
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