Today I observed an unusual amount of hairsprayed big hair, and white socks and sneakers. And a lack of the normal pedestrian traffic around Times Square. And everywhere else.
Toto, we're not in New York City anymore.
A took his lesson at an outside bench near Central Park with Catherine, under the shade of a big Pottery Barn umbrella and the watchful eye of a cop. They're speaking French. Yeah, the language of subversives. They're also drinking Jamba Juice.
After his lesson, A wanted to go to Washington Square Park. I refused. I did not want to get accidentally arrested.
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