If you live east of First, and want to do anything on Marathon Sunday, you need to leave early, or you won't be able to cross First Avenue. No kidding. One year I was invited to a Marathon Party and never made it because I couldn't cross the street.
My first stop is to visit little Chloe. She looks like a sleeping angel.
Next I move on to Bloomingdales where I am successful in exchanging an empty 50 ml bottle of Sisley's award-winning fragrance, Soir de Lune, for a full one. M had bought it for me as a gift several years ago. I went to use it recently and the total bottle had evaporated, despite having been housed in a dark linen closet. I have no receipt and no proof of purchase, but the Cosmetics Director who helps me is very nice, and I walk out with a new bottle.
I then do something I've never done before. Eat a chicken gyro from one of those food trucks on Broadway. I'm glad I'm not counting points right now, as I'm sure these sandwiches must be filled with thousands. It is delicious.
And finally, I see a play at Lincoln Center called Kill Floor. All five actors are superb, but the story is pretty grim. I leave the theater around 3:45 to get home, and quickly discover I can't.
I feel like I'm in that movie, After Hours. A guy gets stuck in Soho with not enough money to take the subway home. The movie is about his adventures while he's figuring out a way to get back to his uptown apartment. I have no adventures.
The crosstown bus I want isn't in service. The streets are blocked off so walking through the park isn't an option. And there is so much gridlock that taking a cab would take an hour —if I could even find one.
Someone finally tells me that the crosstown 86th Street bus is working, so I take the subway from 66th to 86th, then a bus, then a 12-block walk home. A normal 30 minute trip takes about 90 today.
Lesson learned.
Next year I will be staying home on Marathon Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment