Late(ish) Night on the LES
I had an Improv show this week.
It was held in the back room of a bar, down on the Lower East Side.
The show started at 10pm, but my team didn't go on until about 11pm. Which is admittedly not rock-and-roll late, but is still kinda late for a Wednesday. No? I think yes.
En route to the bar, I was tired, and a little grumpy about being tired. I whined my way down Houston Street to the tune of "It's late, I wanna be at home, I wanna be asleep."
But there's an energy in that part of town, at that time of night, that isn't easily ignored. There's neon lights and basement bars, hipsters and regulars, knishes and noodles, high-end gelato and run-down bodegas, skate-boarders and shifty characters, an historic past and an ironic present.
And the energy - the aliveness - interrupted my whining to remind me that I was really so very lucky.
Lucky to have performance opportunities. Lucky to be able to stay out late, and go where I wanna go, and do what I wanna do. Lucky to live in a city that never sleeps.
That hasn't always been the case. It won't always be the case. I'm a lucky girl that it's my case for now.
I'll sleep later.