As predicted, I did end up spending $40 at Fiorello’s last night along with six other people who probably doled out as much or more. Since no one would share the chocolate mousse with me, I was forced to journey over to the Empire Hotel roof bar and blow some more money on this white espresso Godiva chocolate martini concoction. THIS NEARLY WAS YOURS, Lincoln Center! My intern Nate was watching the Tosca simulcast from the plaza, and he reported today that he didn’t see any food or drinks for sale. 800-1000 captive people and nothing to sell them! I’m about to break out in hives.
This is especially odd because there certainly was food and drink for sale during Lincoln Center’s Midsummer Night’s Swing this July, so it wouldn’t appear to be a permit problem or anything.
Can we also talk about the boo-ing? Is that kind of en masse bad review a publicist’s dream or worst nightmare? It certainly gets people talking, but now all anyone knows about the production is that people boo-ed. I thought it was great, Mr. Bondy. As Lois once said to Peter in panic room, “The language they’re speaking is a language of subtlety, something that you don’t understand.”
I thought they were saying “Boo-urns.”