I attended my first penthouse party on Saturday. A friend from my office hosted a farewell do for a colleague who recently retired. It was very cool to walk into the building on East 56th, show the doorman my invitation, and be told to press "PH" in the elevator. The apartment was small (there are 4 others on the penthouse floor), but the wrap-around balcony was marvelous.
It was a beautiful, low humidity day in NYC. To sit in a comfortable chair on a penthouse balcony and have gin and appetizers served to me was just a fine, fine way to spend a Saturday afternoon and evening. After we were suitably buzzed (did I mention the gin?), a lovely meal was served (there goes a million Weight Watchers points). There was a cool breeze and good conversation.
And don't think I didn't take the opportunity to scope out the goings-on in the surrounding rich folks' apartments. You get a really good view into those flats from a penthouse, I tell ya'. Ahh. I can't imagine living in such swell digs in the East 50's, though I certainly live in swell digs in East Harlem. Somehow, it ain't the same.
Now I know a little something about the other half and how it lives.
2 comments:
Hey Sis, you have a Park Ave. address. You are living the Lisa Douglas la vida loco.
Bro.
Dahlin' I love ya', but give me Park Avenue . . .
Well, maybe you could consider my apartment a penthouse, since I'm on the top floor. And I guess the fire escape outside my bedroom window could serve as the penthouse balcony.
Hm. Just not the same as the East 50's, somehow!
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