Last night at Strand

I don't get out and do the free stuff like I did when I first got here. I'm thinking that will change in a couple of weeks. Right now, the sun goes down and Bob goes inside. To freakin' cold ... unless there's drinkin' involved.

Last night was an exception. There was a book talk at the Strand by science writer Jonah Lehrer who wrote the New York Times best seller "How We Decide."

I decided to stop by and see it using my superior deciding brain thing.

Here's how I decide to do things. I think it's called answering questions. You are more than welcome to try it at home.

First, is it free? This was. It is amazing how broadly educated a cheap bastard can be in New York City.

Second, can I find a comfortable way to kill time before the thing starts? Midtown isn't conducive ... unless there's drinkin' involved. This was in the Union Square area ... so, I camped in a little coffee shop a couple of blocks away.

Third, do I have to stand in line early for a chance to do it? If I have to wait in too much of a line, or get there really early to get in and sit, I'm usually not that interested. Last night, I walked up 5 minutes before start time at 7 p.m. and found a spot to lean. It was about why people will turn their nose up at a $5 bottle of wine and love the same wine if they think it is a $90 bottle of wine. Right up my alley. That would have been worth a wait and it certainly was worth standing in the back of the audience for 90 minutes.

And, finally, the temperatures were in the high 40s after the sun went down, so I wasn't testing my frostciles.

Anyway, the talk was filmed by a C-SPAN BookTV crew. I don't know when it will air, but when it does, it should offer visual confirmation of my location in New York City. I'll be the guy in the flannel shirt in standing in the back deciding not to shout "Why don't you just shut the fuck up!" at the interviewer ... Robert Krulwich from NPR's Radio Lab, a flaming twit who was more interested in hearing himself than he was in letting us hear Lehrer.

If the camera pans slowly enough at the right moment, you might be able to see me make another decision. I want the twit's job. I am currently deciding which steps to take to have it.

The oddest thing happened on the way to ...

I was wandering past Saks (on 5th Avenue, oddly enough) two days ago when I found myself inexplicably stepping inside. I don't know what came over me, but it may have had something to do with the head blow described in my previous post. The old Bob would only have gone into Saks if his bladder was full to bursting or his bowels needed immediate emptying in the "Men's Lounge", but this strange new Bob ... apparently there has been a personality shift because there I was. ... Ground floor of Commerce Central, gateway to the land of the lost, Red Hell.

My eyes watered.

Perfumes. Mutants. The rubble of Babble.

Obsession. Envy. Compulsion. Euphoria. Opium. Romance. Ice. Heat. Radiance. Passion. Escape. Poison. Stalked youth. Plastic faces. Dead animals. Matrons wearing granddaughter clothes. The sticky ick of humanity adrift without a compass. Eternity. Seriously enthralling. Neato!

The stigmata on my unicorn nubbin oozed as I road the escalator up six flights to the men's department. I know because I watched the new Bob in the polished brass mirror wall, standing between a man in a cashmere overcoat below me and two 60+ women in matching Juicy Couture sweat suits above me. I don't know what the man's deal was. But I think the women were churning butter in their sweats.

But I didn't care. Euphoria. I was so looking forward to looking at suits, and shirts, and shiny black loafers.

There was a sale! I was gleeful ... full of glee (or something). I picked up a shirt that was 70 percent off -- Super sales price? $275. ...

People are idiots. But, I want to take this chance to thank Saks for setting me straight. I emptied my bowels -- it was a forced evacuation -- in the "Men's Lounge" and made a break for the street (5th Avenue, as it happens.).

Escape. Lovely. Rapture.