The silver orb of a full moon hung in the night sky directly above Central Park South so that it looked like the street of car lights and illuminated windows from rows of high-rise buildings was making a direct path to that luminary presence above New York.
Stood on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel overlooking Columbus Circle afforded me a wonderful view of the sweep of New York eastwards toward the moon.
I’d arrived as the pre-dinner reception was wrapping up and stood at the bar hoping to get a last minute drink it seemed I was to be thwarted as the bar tender told the gentlemen next to me he had to close the bar and couldn’t serve any more drinks.
“No f##king way,” replied the silver haired New Yorker in no uncertain terms. “Glass of wine for the lady and a double Greygoose Vodka on the rocks for me.”
After serving him the slightly stricken-looking bar tender turned to me.
“Same as him, please,” I said.
I went back with my double vodka clinking away to my vantage spot to gaze again at Central Park South leading all the way to the moon, as well as to ponder how New Yorkers have a certain way about them at the bar with effective results.