The Obliterati

I forgot to leave Manhattan last weekend. After giving rain checks to Astoria and Greenpoint and Bushwick, I instead opted to cover a great deal of distance over the thirteen mile stretch of the island. There was a scampy art exhibit in Chelsea, a claustrophobic, yet festive, Indian meal on 8th Avenue, the usual tomfoolery on the Lower East Side, a coed patio on the Upper West Side, a greedy juke box in the East Village, an omelet in Yorkville, and a traumatic trip to Bed Bath & Beyond (hell) in the Upper East Side. Also somewhere in there, I was one half of a pair of the only white girls at an off-off-off Broadway Black Power play.