Dinner with maiming

Last night after "After Miss Julie" (yo!) I waited for SarahB and Kevin on the top floor at Angus, sipping wine and reading about who to blame for the current state of the media and poor old California by candlelight as masses of bedazzled (or simply dazed) tourists streamed out of POTO and Brooke Shields dined in the corner.

Random point #1: I quite enjoyed this article on Ricky Gervais and Russell Brand, which I read earlier in the week at the bus stop. (Does my location at the time of reading matter? No; I want you to think I get around, that's all.)

Random point #2: POTO. I can't disparage people who love this show—I too like comfort food—but perhaps something else has appeared on Broadway in the last 20 years that is worthy of their attention.

Random point #3: I feared I might be blinded for life when a woman, exiting the restroom, kindly held open the door for me and then accidentally swiped her arm across my right eye. Which, because I happen to wear rigid gas permeable contact lenses—and they are not kidding with that word "rigid"—heightened the sensation to what I can only describe as a sort of scraping against the surface. But I am a trouper! So I spent the rest of the evening laughing at the table while one eye gently wept (and the lid mildly swelled). But this morning I have not even a shiner to show for it, so I couldn't shrug nonchalantly and whisper "Bar fight" to the teller behind the bulletproof glass at the bank.

Random point #4: Even with one eye closed, I can tell you that Brooke Shields is flawless.

Wrap-up: "After Miss Julie" was surprisingly solid for a first preview, and well worth the $10 I paid for admission.

Follow-on: New York in almost-autumn is a rare, fleeting gift. Get here fast.