The Wee Hours: Midtown's Halloween Hall of Mirrors
“I don’t recognize you,” said a man in a black negligee, black corset, black heels and two stuck-on circles of black mesh, one covering his mouth and another covering his crotch. It was early Sunday evening, Halloween eve, and he was talking to a man in a dress, with pink hair.
Somehow, he managed to nestle a cigarette into the small indentation in the spandex oral wrapping. Read More
