Well, well, well...

I had myself quite a weekend. Got my hair done, went to see a Broadway musical, did another comedy show and had a spiritual awakening. All in all, a strong 48 hours.

What I like about it here is that people are just going for it all of the time, in many different ways. Perhaps they're shoving a flyer at you as they scream-invite you to join a gym. Maybe they're scream-complaining about sports from behind the cash register at the corner bodega. Could be that they're just smoking really fast. I find the common denominators are quickness, loudness and talking. Oh my god, there's so much talking.

You know what else there is? Food on the street. And not just your standard hot dog cart...

In case you've never seen breakfast before.

I guess this is for tourists who don't want to get involved unless they know what they're in for. I understand that. It makes sense to show your wares. But does no one working here own a camera? Walking past this table was unnerving. It gave the impression that four brunchers were kidnapped, chairs and all, in the middle of what was otherwise a perfectly lovely meal.

Here's another one of those doorways I'm so crazy about...

I must've been a stone mason in a previous life.

On Saturday night, Don and I went to see the musical Promises, Promises. It's a light-hearted romp based on the movie The Apartment. That's right. you heard me. The Apartment.

This was before women's lib.

The music is by Burt Bacharach and the book is by Neil Simon. It was really hilarious. Sure, the female lead tries to commit suicide in Act 2, but they had her up and walk-singing it off in no time. Fun for the whole family. 

C'mon, gal! Stop killin' yourself...and all that jazz!

That's Sean Hayes on the far right, who plays CC Baxter. He was SO good and the audience adored him. As I sat there, way back in the rear mezzanine because we got our tickets at the TKTS discount booth 2 hours before the show started, I realized that the audience is there to adore you and part of being a performer is that you have to let them. This has never occurred to me before. I always thought they were there to judge and dismiss me. But if you think of it the other way, which I did at my show on Sunday, then everybody has a good time. Thank you Broadway musicals for teaching me another important life lesson. I thought I'd learned all there was to know after hearing It's A Hard Knock Life on the Annie soundtrack when I was 10, but no. That was just the tip of the iceberg. 

And then it was back to work today. Here are two things I saw on my walk home:

The ground was not purple in real life.

The two boys above were just blatantly smoking a joint as they walked down the street. Like a modern day Cheech and Chong, but without the van or the giggling. I started to get kind of nervous for them, since there are cops about every four feet in this town. But then...

Don't look into it's eyes.

I happened by a butcher shop and saw this horror. I mean, is that image really supposed to make me want to buy their "quality" sausages? It's a rabid, salivating, cannibal pig! It just needs to be holding a cleaver in one hoof and it'd be the scariest sign in the history of butcher shops. The words that were on the missing part were, "Come Try Our (Quality) Pig-Fed Pig Meat (Sausages)"

All right, I've lost my mind. I'm going to lay down and watch the Lifetime Movie Network.