Scaaary dinner

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Can you imagine that I took no pictures tonight? It was much darker than I had expected somehow and it was also time to have this dinner at this place on 14th street, Kloe, this new Place, with Erica Miller as the chief chef officer. The food was good (I had the Tuna, but the Salmon looked even better.) and Wine was of the Napa valley kind, the kind I did not think I would have to drink again, but not half bad, as they say. Kloe pretends to have been around since 1864, but it is actually a pretty new joint. There are dimmers in the bathrooms and a chair, just in case you would like a friend to watch you, or you would like to watch your imaginary friend. All good.
There were plenty of costumes everywhere, of course. (Outside, Kloe was pretty much costume-less) This is New York City we are talking about. One drag queen on the subway was such perversely dominant horror dominatrix that she came with her own removed head that she would kick between the stations and throw against the walls of the station once the train stopped. There was no audience for this spectacle really, so the madness eventually stopped. There was a car filled with monsters and a group of monsters outside in the street screaming at each other in a scary competition. There were princesses and monkeys, there were headless monsters and flamboyant sultans (with dense fake golden eyelashes). There was the entire spectrum of what humans can turn themselves into when they are allowed to dress up. And so there were no cabs, of course. And so I am home now and not at a bar. The subway does not care what holiday it is. It just moves people from one place to the next no matter what they look like, no matter how much they have drunk, or even in case of this one almost toothless gentleman how much they were able to retain what they drunk. So I am home again. The bag on the outside door still has the pumpkin and the candy attached to it. I think I will just seek out a random cemetery tomorrow and some candles. Or maybe go into the next best church and do the same. I really do not do Halloween, I am more of an All Saints Day guy. But thatís maybe because I am Polish. (Somewhere deep inside.)

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I've managed to avoid getting bombarded with pesky chidlings dressed up in black plastic bags and asking for money. I Read More

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This page contains a single entry by Witold published on November 1, 2002 12:25 AM.

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