Staying at the unbearably hip Hudson Hotel in NYC. Too hip to need normal-sized rooms; too hip to need more than two light bulbs per room (three, counting a little desk light) or fridge or other features standard at, say, Hawthorne Suites. Ah, variety in life.
But hip enough to have the front entrance jammed with beautiful people in their 20s.
Trudging through the entrance, invisible to this crowd because I'm part of their parents' generation and therefore not impeding their conversations in any way. One tall, striking young woman sends out a stream of cigarette smoke and says to her doppelganger companion, "I was just heading to Amsterdam, and it was a really vulnerable moment." Ah, really to be invisible and stay to hear more.