Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

Tom and I zipped down the sidewalk in Chelsea. Coming the other way was a troupe of guys. As we crossed paths, the one guy said to another guy, “We’re going to that drag show tonight.” Tom turned to me and said, “what is a tri show?” I said, “He said, ‘A drag show.’ Not a tri show.” “Oh,” said Tom. “I was thinking that I knew bi, but tri sounded new.” I laughed. Because it was funny. Tri’s. That is not what the T stands for in LGBTQ.  But my moments of feeling all in-the-know were short lived. We went to the Whitney Biennial, which is a whole other story, but the important part is that I had bought a $7 matcha latte right before we went in that I was not. going. to. throw. out.  So Tom and I took a detour through the book shop in the lobby. There was a display of flags for sale. I see the Leather Flag, Demisexual flag, Aromatic flag, Non-binary Flag. Wait, the Aromatic flag? Is this people who smell good or people who only are attracted to people who smell

Thursday night, we headed out to Bushwick to see a show. It feels like another world out there. A long way from the office in New Jersey where I'd been just hours before. And I mean that mostly in a non-geographic context. (Bushwick is in Brooklyn, btw. Apparently this is not a well-known travel destination outside of a five-borough radius.) Admittedly, I was feeling a little jangly when we first showed up and the venue seemed more like a club for people who don nude high heels to lengthen their leg line and then blow out their eardrums amidst unrelenting house music. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'd left my earplugs in my other handbag.  And I don't own a pair of nude high heels. I feel like they were a thing like three years ago. Has the trend become a classic? I'm not the type who would know. But the second we got through the bar and into the theater space, I knew it was all going to work out just fine.  We were greeted by a very b

Friday night we walked over to the Rubin Museum to drink with the Buddhists but also because they had a Game of Thrones tour of the galleries. A few of the Buddhists came on the tour with us. The tour guide shuffled us all up to one of the mandalas on the fifth floor and started pointing at it while talking about Game of Thrones. She had an iPad full of photos from the show to corroborate her Tibetan art-related theories. Some of them were a stretch. One of the Buddhists leaned over and whispered, “Too many Game of Thrones references! Maybe a few would be ok, but this is over the top.”  I whispered back, ‘this is a Game of Thrones tour.”  “Oh," he said,” I didn’t know that.”  Afterwards, we decided to check out the new Georgian restaurant on 14th street. The Georgian alphabet is printed, kind of big, on one of the walls in the restaurant. These letters look really spry to me, who cannot read them. They bounce across my eyeballs. I wonder who it was that g