In Which We Enter The Box:

Through a couple of flukes (acquaintances, a cousin involved in the ownership) I’ve ended up at The Box twice in one week. The Box is a club in downtown Manhattan. It has a live burlesque show and a drinks list featuring $13,000 champagne (did I read that correctly?)

As with many such places, The Box adheres to a mystical door policy. On Visit #1 I was told to say “SUGAR RAY” as a password. On Visit #2 I was not allowed inside until my cousin poked his head out the door and identified me like a perp in a police lineup. Casual humiliation: a staple of the nightlife.

While reading this I kept getting the feeling I had read it before, and couldn’t quite figure out why. With some quick googling, I realized why. It was because I had read it before. Same work, same blog, different title. Maybe the talented Ms. Molly Young forgot that she posted it before. Maybe her raving fans will attack me again (That was the post in which I called her an attention whore. Maybe everyone missed the fact that anyone who writes/blogs is to some degree.)

A very entertaining piece, none the less.

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