Menuflection

Last week (Wednesday? Thursday? 3fo2.x&4-ui%.day? I don’t know; they’re all a blur!) I went to the New York Public Library to see the “New York Eats Out” exhibit. I highly recommend it.
What I don’t recommend, however, is that if you go, you stand so close to the person next to and ahead of you that she can almost feel the peach-fuzz of your cheek against the smooth dewy flesh of hers. That person may, after all, turn to you and say, “Move! What, are you going to kiss me next?”
I also don’t recommend that you press your sweaty palms against the glass of each display case in an effort to support your tonnage as you spend an inordinate amount of time feasting your eyes on the items behind the glass. I hate to break it to you, but no matter how much you fixate on the prices of desserts offered by Schrafft’s circa 1946, the actual dessert is not going to magically materialize before your greedy eyes. Remember, just like at a buffet, you have to move on. And it’s nice to leave something for everyone else in line. Otherwise, you may just find that when you lumber over to the next case to view the next part of the chronological display, one person whose progress you impeded earlier will feel the need to pretend she’s poring over each detail, molecule by molecule, crumb by crumb, of every item in the case you wish to view.
And one more thing: You might also want to ditch the gum. No matter how much you think it’s going to quell the appetite that merely perusing menus is stirring in your gut, it’s just not going to work. Either is chewing the gum faster and faster and breathing heavier and heavier. Because you know that as soon as you leave, you’re going to continue the day’s culinary theme and seek some sort of relief. (P.S. No, I can’t believe a sandwich used to only cost five cents, either.)
Just so you know.
N.B.: This was all just a little too reminiscent of my experience at an Oscar Wilde exhibit earlier this year.