What's Happening!! - 6/3/07
Lindsay Davis - New York Times
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This Week's Gossip
The island of Manhattan is a cozy village populated by more than 7 million fascinating individuals, who all behave like they own the sidewalk. But lately, it seems the entire city has been magically reduced to only two people, me and the next whacko I bump into.
It began this week in Central Park where Anne and I fast walked with Rachel and Audrey Tatellio on Sunday morning. We were half way through our walk, chattering away happily when we bumped into two young guys. I'm sure they were Hispanic and were high as a kite on the grass they were sharing.
We tried to swing passed them on the wide walk, but they quickly moved over to block our path. The taller of the two said his name was Pedro and asked what four fine looking women were planning for the rest of the day. I told him we were exercising. The other kid said his name was Tony and they could give us better exercise in their nearby apartment. Anne said she doubted they were capable of satisfying anybody in their condition.
Pedro whispered ménage a trois, saying they could each make two of us happy and grabbed my arm. Before I knew what happened, Anne kneed him in the groin so hard he fell to the ground wreathing in pain. Tony ran like hell as he realized Rachel was dialing 911 on her cell phone. A mounted policeman was there within seconds and he took a still moaning Pedro away.
On Tuesday evening I played Charlotte in Rachel's Sex and the City play. I had to use the infamous C word several times since my character dealt with a famous painter, Neville Morgan, played by Tim. I wasn't required to strip down naked since the nude painting scenes would have been too graphic to use in the theater.
My next situation with a whacko was on Wednesday evening. I noticed an apparent intoxicated man hanging off a lamp post singing out loud. Thinking I could at least help the poor drunk by offering him five bucks to get some coffee and a muffin to help him sober up. I was in the process of insisting he go in Starbucks when he suddenly straightened up, drew a pistol, and shot a man walking out of a nearby bar three times.
What I think was a Toyota Camry driven by a female roared up. The guy handed me back my fiver before he leaped in and they drove away. I was already on my cell phone dialing 911. An old friend, Lt. Joe Friday, was the first on the scene, followed by a patrol car and an ambulance. They declared the man dead on the scene and hauled him away to the morgue.
I learned the following day that the victim was a known mobster from Chicago named Peter Patrazio. Apparently it was a planned hit, a typical gangland murder for what will no doubt remain unknown.
On Saturday I spent the evening ay Mahoney's Irish Pub where Molly was filling in for Barb. It seems that Barb is babysitting a six year old lad named Devin for a few days. All Molly could tell me was they are trying to help the boy's mother, Samantha Emeris, who's having some problems with a drunken ex-husband.
I was sitting there enjoying a pitcher of their famous Killian's Red Ale while watching Jamie Peterson sing and dance on stage to the cat calls of the audience, primarily men that tossed money and begged her to strip.
Carolyn Donovan made a surprise entrance and chatted with Molly. Apparently, from what little I could overhear, Caro will be helping her friend Natalie Palermo deal with Diego Farina's rapidly increasing Genovese work force.
Jamie was just finishing up her second set when a female looking awfully worn and ragged walked in, took a seat at the far end of the bar and ordered a beer. I watched her set her guitar case on the floor at her feet and carefully count a small roll of dollar bills. She paid for the beer with two ones and quickly drank half of the beer.
She looked like she was starving so I told Molly to go down there and quietly offer her a free meal on my tab. She declined, telling Molly she didn't need hand outs. I got up and walked down with my pitcher of ale, sat down on the stool beside her and whispered to her. It took me almost half an hour to talk June into accepting an offer that was hard for her to refuse; a guest room in my place for a few days and possibly a job at the Carnegie Hill Spa as a simple towel girl.
A really tough looking dude took the last seat of the bar and slowly sipped a single beer while scanning the pub. He worried me, but never said a word to June or me.
Finally Declan Mulqueen arrived, joining Denny Mahoney and a female I'd never seen before at the other end of the bar. I couldn't hear their conversations, but Molly did tell me the lady was Samantha Emeris, the woman staying at Barb's place while hiding from her ex-husband.
I never got at last name out of June but she grudgingly agreed to give my proposal a try, so we shared a taxi over to Manhattan. I set her up in the guest room and since we're about the same size I laid out some fresh clothing that she can wear tomorrow while we go shopping for more. While she showered and collapsed in bed, I finished this column and faxed it over to my editor.
Entertainment
This Tuesday night, June 5th at 10:00 pm ET, the Off-Broadway Creative Arts Theatre will be offering Rachel Tatellio's version of Will & Grace - Alley Cats. It should be fun and I will be sitting in my center seat in the back row watching to see who might show up and who sits with whom.
