Turtle Bay, or east Midtown, is a strange mixture on a Saturday night. On the one hand it is an upscale neighborhood, with local restaurants and fancy apartment complexes housing UN dignitaries. On the other it is the playground for young partiers, from Jersey and the environs, looking for Frat boy style bars. They roam the streets arm in arm, tottering on skinny heels with interesting and flesh revealing outfits.
Today, on a warm humid spring (yet felt like summer) night, I explored the first half of this neighborhood’s world (although I have been known to enter the latter). We went to a local Turkish restaurant, with tin ceilings and globe lamps, like a French Brasserie pushed further East. Next to our table were two women, dressed to watch the Kentucky Derby perhaps? Two men with the confidence of those who know the restaurant owner, lounged in their seats. They knew I was photographing them, luxuriating in it. On my way home I stopped to photograph the fountain in front of a fancy apartment building. Assuring the doorman that I was photographing water only, and not his residents.