On Wednesday morning, Julian and I went for a late breakfast at Cafe Cluny in West Village. It was raining all day (in fact it rained, hailed and snowed, all in the course of one day), but it was nice to be inside a nice restaurant and looking out. I felt sorry for the delivery guys who were outside unloading their trucks. Breakfast was really tasty; I had an omelette with herbs, goat’s cheese and spinach, while Julian had a breakfast sandwich. We also had tea and coffee.

When we went to leave, I couldn’t find my umbrella. Julian had done the smart thing and kept his umbrella with him at the table, while I threw mine in with the pile at the front door. I don’t think I’ll do that ever again. I told the staff my umbrella had been stolen and they were very good about it. They went to look in lost-and-found to see if there was one I could take, but when they came back empty handed, someone went down to the local deli to buy me a new umbrella. I thought that was really nice of them, and quite above and beyond, considering it’s not their fault people steal.

While I was looking for the umbrella, Emma Stone (an actress) walked out of the cafe, past me and Julian. I was pre-occupied so didn’t notice her (though to be honest, I wouldn’t have a clue who she was even if she’d introduced herself to me), but Julian did and gleefully told me about it. When the staff returned with a new umbrella, we left.

I went back to Aaron’s place and decided to stay in and work on my book a bit more. Considering how dreary it looked out the window, I wasn’t too upset about it. Julian, on the other hand, explored far and wide. He also went to the half-price ticket booth in Times Square to see what shows were available for that night, but due to the timing of when the tickets were released and a queue that suddenly had 200 people in it, we decided against it.

But, as luck would have it, he was walking past the Schoenfeld Theatre where It’s Only A Play was being performed. This play stars Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick, Rupert Grint, Stockard Channing, Megan Mullaly and a couple of other actors. I’d seen advertising for it while I in Toronto and was keen to catch it, but there weren’t any tickets available when I looked online. When Julian popped in to the box office, he managed to get two really good seats so our plans for the evening were set.

He then came to hang out with me at Aaron’s. I managed to get one chapter done, which was less than I would have hoped, but it was a difficult one. We then went to The Smith, a restaurant in East Village, for dinner, and gorged ourselves on more good food, then caught a taxi uptown to the theatre. When we arrived, the ushers said that Nathan Lane and Megan Mullaly were not performing that night and if we wanted a refund, we could get one at the box office. We decided to see it anyway (I was keen to see Stockard Channing), though there were lots of people who opted for the refund.

There were some great lines in the play, and some really funny self-referential and topical mentions that had me laughing out loud. It was also something to see Stockard Channing (and Rupert Grint) live on stage. However, there were a few too many things wrong with the play to make it an excellent night at the theatre. Matthew Broderick was really flat and hard to warm to, and the play’s structure and content isn’t very tight. The second act falls really flat and turns into meta-theatre that is quite frankly a bit dull and too pleased with itself. I expected something better, but it wasn’t so bad that I wish I had my money back.

The show finished at 10:30, then Julian and I caught a cab back to Aaron’s place to meet Glen, who’d landed in New York at 9:55pm. I thought we might arrive at the same time, or he might be late, but he was waiting outside the Starbucks for us when we arrived. He’d only been waiting 10 minutes so it wasn’t too bad – plus he had his Canada Goose jacket to keep himself warm. Julian’s friend, Natalie, arrived shortly after too (she’s living in Brooklyn at the moment), and then the four of us went in search of some fun.

We returned to The Monster but the place was packed and we were looking for somewhere with a little more space to sit and talk. We left there and went around the corner to The Stonewall Inn, which wasn’t anywhere near as busy. I’m glad we went here though, as it’s such an icon in the history of gay rights. The inside looks much as it did in a film version of the riots I’d seen that was made in the 80s. Made me think of how many things have improved, yet also of how far we still have to go.

We had some drinks, got some popcorn laced with M&Ms (gay popcorn we called it), then had a bit of a dance upstairs, before heading home at about 1:30pm. Glen wanted noodles but the rest of us weren’t enthusiastic about schlepping around town to find some so we parted and went home to bed.