Under the vaulted arches of the 59th Street Bridge sits Guastavino’s Bar, an enormous posh lounge. Jerry was in town, so the two brothers did a minor pub crawl ending up beneath the bridge at the secret home of the hot women. Everyone else in the bar was a low level midtown suit, swilling Scotch to try and impress his boss, so Jer and I looked good by comparison.
I went back this morning and it was all mysteriously gone–just an empty lot with discarded newspapers blowing in the rain.
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SOTD: From Walker, who you should vote for.