Times Square is Square

It's been a long time since I've been in Times Square. When I moved to New York City in 1978, Times Square was a curious mix of the the seedy, the needy and people from New Jersey. We never hung out there, although we occasionally stood on line for half-price tickets to the theater. We never ate there because we couldn't afford tourist prices. It was a place that served its function, no more.

We were meeting people for dinner at a BBQ restaurant on 44th Street. We stumbled out of the subway into the bright lights and teeming crowds. Disney characters were everywhere, and the pan-handlers, drug dealers and tattoo artists had moved to new locations. I once had a traumatic experience with Goofy at Disneyland in the late '60s. I remember wearing a pink and green miniskirt at the time, so it was probably my fault when Goofy fondled my butt.  As a result of this trauma, I've never been to Disney World. I've never even taken my kids there. Bad mother.

Getting over the shock of arrival in Disney World, we elbowed our way to the restaurant. I'm not a BBQ buff but the food was decent. Everything tastes good with a margarita. Dinner done, most of the crew went to see a musical, leaving us to grab a cab and make it back to the real world of the Upper East Side.