After leaving the Met at about 5:15, I walked with the other four to Park Ave., where I
noticed that we were only 400 away from the street address I was supposed to be at for
the dinner meeting with
the
Kibologists.
We adjourned via subway
to an Afghan restaraunt in the vicinity of Greenwich Village, where I chose a dish
(incorrectly according to unidentified kibologists) which wasn't spicy at all despite what
the evil menu told me. After that, I bailed on them in order to try to attend the
bachelors' party (which sucked), while they went on to do some sort of donkey-lovin'. You can
follow them on their story via red's page
Meanwhile I caught a cab back a dozen blocks or so to the restaraunt where the other folks
were having a big dinner on the corner of Canal and Bowery.
