Sitting by a pathological twitcher at a show is not a fun experience. The only time I’ve had a worse sit-next-to-you experience was at The Book of Mormon, where the lady next to me twirled her hair around her finger for the entire show.
NYC taxis are not as clean as London taxis.
Apartment living is the way to go when traveling to NYC.
I’m betting that Stark Sands never envisioned himself taking a curtain call in drag-queen red leather boots, and boxer shorts.
Sleeping the night through is a real blessing.
And having a ham and egg biscuit from the Southern bakery across the street is a delight.