Sometimes a simple relaxing trip to the city to view public art can take an unexpected twist. All seven of us met for lunch on the upper west side at a quiet Thai restaurant. Finally just before 2 PM we wandered into Central Park to take in The Gates. It was free, so I figured it was worth a trip to check it out. The plan was to follow the Gates with either the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the Natural History Museum. I opted to stay in the park and walk around with the throngs of other people. Everyone else headed off.
I saw a LOT of Central Park. Strawberry Fields, The Shakespeare Garden, Belvedere Castle, the Lawn, the Summit, etc... The Gates in and of themselves are hardly interesting. It's just a bunch of orange (or saffron) vinyl arches with a big sheet of nylon fabric hanging from them. I don't think the point of the art installation was to put up the arches and have them be a work of art all alone. The art is the fact that tens of thousands of people are in the park in February. People were laughing and kids were playing and everyone was enjoying the sunny yet cold day. I've never even seen that many people in the park in the summertime. I had a nice chat with a couple who took my photo, and then I watched a woman wearing leather pants and a fur coat get shouted at by an anti-fur freak. She handled that better than I ever would. I wonder if this girl really expected to change this woman's mind about fur by harassing her while she plays with her dog in the park.
After the park, I went to have a drink and wait for everyone else to meet back up from their respective museums. We were sitting at the Raccoon Lodge drinking $2 Sam Adams and the French Foreign Legion (aka, the post-docs in our lab) show up and we have sushi for dinner. A LOT of sushi. Love it.
We split up again when the French headed home, and the three of us who remained decided to go out to a bar/restaurant where Bob and E had been before. We walked into the bar portion and after waiting a while we sat ourselves at a porch-swing equipped table. It was an odd seat, rocking and all. E's feet couldn't even touch the ground. After a drink we decided we'd rather move on and asked for the bill. $60!? The Fuck?! So we called the waiter, who called the owner, who got the hostess and we argued about how they actually have to tell you in advance if there's a $10 Cover charge. She didn't get it, and I wasn't budging. We were about half a step away from getting the police when she finally just threw us out. We didn't even pay for the drinks, and we were actually on the street before we realized what happened. Now I can check off another item on my "List of things to do before dying": Get kicked out of a bar.
We went to an unremarkable bar after that, and then got on the LIRR and headed back home.