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Also deemed the “best place to cleavage-watch.” Wright certainly couldn’t hope for his prominent spiral balconies to be used for such an activity and, in the company of five men, what else could I do but partake?

Aside from “boobwatch” initiated by the ever-ready Fischka, there were other things to look at. For example the David Smith sculpture exhibit, which reminded me of my one time boyfriend who made decorative trinkets out of cutlery. “Would you like me to make you a ring out of that fork,” he would say. And a week later I would have a clunky ring that was more a self-defense apparatus than an accessory. He also made silverware figurines; the amount of violent bending and twisting that the production of spoon and fork men involved was shocking. Eventually, I began to wonder if I was the source of anger that urged someone to hammer at metal for hours. But I digress…

The true attraction of the first Friday at the museum is actually the music. Roy and Fisch are both crazy about RJD2 and, preceded by two really mediocre DJs, the night’s hero finally took stage. At that point, we shifted positions from the third or fourth balcony to the second level, which allowed for a better look at the crowd and surprisingly gave a better sound to the music. The experience was quite possibly worth the $20. Maybe not for those people who stood in the one-block-long line outside where we passed them with our pre-ordered tickets. Hopefully, like us, they were equipped with flasks full of whiskey.

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