I have lived in this neck of the woods since 1974 and had never been into this establishment believing, as one friend recently wrote, "thought the people who “dined” at The Monkey Farm had tattoos on all body parts, were missing most of their teeth and slept with their first cousins". This proved not to be the case at lunch time anyway. Had a perfectly delicious Reuben sandwich with yummy coleslaw and found the restroom to be scrupulously clean with a funny retro pink sink and incongruously encourgaing pro Giants scribblings on the slate walls.
Monthly Archives: February 2012
This yoga studio is all about Love, Love, Love. It is on their tee-shirts, their wall and the owner's tattooed arm.
A quick place to run into while shopping. Clean enough and located upstairs which was devoid of diners and I didn't have to feel too guilty that I wasn't actually a patron. Again lots of signs about what not to put in various recepticles. I guess there really is no toilet ettiquette taught any more.
A beautiful restroom which reflects the sumptuous new American wing itself. This is more like what I would have expected in the Member's Dining Room.
This restroom is fine, but a long walk from the dining room and nothing special, unlike the dining room itself which has a reserved and elegant atmosphere partially created by its wall of slanting windows overlooking Central Park. The food is delicious and the clientelle is interesting to observe if your lunch partner isn't.
Okay, so I lied and here is another out of sequence shot. I wasn't going to post this, but I keep thinking about it and wondering why there would be a picture k in such a small area above the light fixture above the mirro in a public bathroom. Granted this is a museum, but a I can't imagine anything was ever intended to hang here. Heard the illustrious John Ashbery read from his latest book which is a translation of Arthur Rimbaud's Illuminations. More interesting to me were the readings of his own poems. Just when he was getting into a real grove, he was cut off from the reading by one of the staff saying we were out of time. Quite extraordinary.
Sorry I could not get this photo to load the right way, but the floor tile was actually what I was featuring, so I guess it doesn't matter that the pedestal sink is sideways. I am not crazy about the downstairs meeting rooms, but the one I was at today is on an upper floor with French doors leading onto a large terrace. Its high ceiling has skylights and it feels like being in a modern loft- enhanced by the contemporary art on the walls- rather than a stuffy old club.
This what I call a fun restroom. I was delighted to find a delicious organic restaurant in my neighborhood. And across the street is a healthfood store with fresh produce. Now I am all set.
Glad the motif wasn't bulldogs. Like the Yale blue and white in the stripped wallpaper. Seems appropriately Ivy League. Had a meeting in a small room on the Libarary floor. I had never been here before. They have an extinsive collection which is catalogued like a public library and is all wood panelled and quiet.
Do you need to provide a reason for people not to flush snything other than toilet paper down the toilet? Must say I think Richard III could have used an ocean roar. Was there ever a more vile character in all of Shakespeare's repetoire? Poor Kevin Spacey having embody his tortured flesh and soul for 3 1/2 hours Tuesday thru Sunday and twice on Saturday. Don't know how he does it.