We were walking down St. Marks on our way to look at things we could suddenly afford. But you walk down a street for, like, 40 years, a lot of them pretty sucky, it's not walking. More like stepping around unpleasant remains mixed with dog shit. Short and long travels then require a ballet dancer's grace and a lot of professional help.
"Tell me when you see someplace with happy memories," the Mariner said.
"That place!" I said, pointing to the Holiday Cocktail Lounge. Definitely remembered a great night there. Even with the really drunk 90 year old man hitting on all the butch girls.
Then I looked. "Oh, it's closed."
"Every place you have a happy memory about has been shut down," the Mariner pointed out.
**
Related Posts:
Sunday Memories: Last Call
Vanishing New York: The Holiday Cocktail Lounge
Sunday Memories: Tribes, Lost And Found
