Harvey Fierstein - a friend for years - has just gone into the cast of his show La Cage aux Folles. I saw the show in the 1980s and through I liked the cast I hated the production. From what I had been hearing about this new version, it sounded as it they had at last gotten it right. So I was very pleased when a nameless person (who invested in the show) offered to take me two nights before my birthday. He also offered to take me to dinner after.
I left my apartment at 7 to go down to Ninth Ave to get a cab. (They aren’t all that easy to get before show time) I had the email with the address the nameless person had given me - which at the time seemed a bit odd for a theater, but I stupidity didn’t check - clutched in my soon to be frozen little hand. It was very cold, and what little is left of my heart began muttering loudly.
There were no cabs. And even more no cabs. At the last possible minute a car service stopped and offered to take me for $15. I had no choice. We arrived at the address nameless person had given me exactly at 8 pm. I go out, he drove away, I looked around - and realized why the address (48 btw 6th and 5th) had looked odd. I was on the side street next to Rockefeller Center. Instantly my chest got tighter that it has in years and I couldn't stand up. So I sat down on the pavement.
I discovered in this city the moment your butt hits the pavement you instantly become invisible. A faceless invisible homeless person. If I were dying, and I was not sure I wasn’t, lots of luck. Suddenly a pigeon landed next to me and looked very concerned for me and I stared laughing which made me even more invisible. They don't like hearing laughter coming from invisible people.
As soon as I could I got up and into a cab and got home still with the very tight chest. I sat on the steps in my hallway for about a half of an hour until I could go up. After I got warm the chest relaxed, still muttering about going out in the first place. I didn’t get to see Harvey. And I still did not get dinner! The moral is simple, when a nameless person gives you an address, double check it. And pack a lunch.
To the disappointment of my cousin Rae, no firemen were involved.
