It was pretty uneventful for a Saturday night.
I’d cooked dinner, then we walked down Bedford Street to Carmine to Bleecker for gelato at Cones. One scoop of dark chocolate, one scoop of banana for me. Two scoops of coffee mocha chip for Jeff. We started to head home, but when we reached Carmine we noticed some sort of commotion in Father Demo Square.
We’d seen the pianist before and wondered where, in this neighborhood of walk-up apartment buildings, he could possibly live that he can just wheel over his piano on a whim. But this time he had company: Not one but two men had brought with them… portable wooden tap dancing floors! (What else?) A crowd gathered as they tap danced to the piano player’s accompaniment: jazz standards, even Coldplay.
And, unexpectedly, we’d enjoyed dinner, dessert—and a show.