summer weekend

In the city with no plans.  If I have to be here, having no plans is a plus.  I like the option of spontaneity. And even in the summer, there is much to do in New York.

On Saturday, I buy a $4 single ticket on Play-by-Play for a show I want to see, Poor Behavior by Theresa Rebeck.  I honestly don’t mind going to theater by myself.  I am given a fantastic seat, Row E, dead center. Next to me is Wallace Shawn — a gnome-like actor probably most recognized for My Dinner with Andre.  But he is personable, with none of that don’t- talk-to-me-because-I'm-famous air that many actors seem to have.  Granted, he's not a big-name star, but still. 

The play is great.  Provocative, well-acted, and keeps you guessing about the motives of each of the four characters. 

Sunday is the last day of the Charles James exhibit at The Met and so I go.  One nice thing about summer in New York is that the weekends are empty.  As evidence, I am able to easily cross both sides of Park Avenue against the light.  But then I get to the museum and find all the people that are missing from the streets.  The place is packed.  What’s most impressive is all the men that have followed their wives, girlfriends, and mothers to an exhibit on ladies' dresses.

I am supposed to meet Zelia tonight to see Boyhood.  But then I get lost in the book I'm reading, Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty.  I call to give Zelia an out, but she still wants to go so I tell her I'll meet her at 5:45 in front of the theater.  A half hour later Zelia calls back.  "You got your wish.  I'm feeling lazy too."  Perfect.  

Even when there's so much to do, sometimes the thing I enjoy doing most is nothing.