Our taxi dropped us off a block-and-a-half away from where our son, ActorBoy, was expecting to find us. Not to worry, though, we (Beloved, KayJay, and I) were joyfully reunited with him after a minimal amount of "Where are you?" on the cell phones -- no need for an Amber Alert.
ActorBoy's apartment in Queens is a nice, two-room affair with a tightly-spiraling staircase between the first-floor bedroom and the second floor kitchen/living closet. Now, when I say "spiraling staircase," don't let your mind drift off to scenes of opulent grandeur, a la some movie.
That ain't it.
Think more along the lines of an industrial, utilitarian saving-of-space in the back corner of an abandoned theatre...yeah...that's more like it. The 8-inch wide steps were only 8 inches wide at the outside edge. Close to the center pole, they came to a point that could pierce Kevlar. If you planned it just right, you could take one step near the center and slip directly to the ground floor without all that bothersome walking and standing upright of which we all grow so weary.
The apartment itself is quaintly decorated in the now-classic, neo-modern storage-box style. After a quick (47.3 seconds) tour of the facility, ActorBoy had to rush off to his paying gig as the doorman at The Russian Tea Room.
To Be Continued...