The Algonquin Hotel

I ventured forth and sat myself in a chair in the lobby of The Algonquin Hotel around 5:oopm this evening.  I ordered a pot of tea and commenced with writing. It was not the inspired sort, oh no, this was the kind where one take a look at one's WIP and figures out where all the holes are and then sets about filling them. Drudgery. But, after much staring into space (which the waitstaff mistook as the desire to order something more or an impatience for my check) I was able to produce one semi-decent chapter..minus an ending. An important chapter, no less, a first kiss kind of chapter and it was hard as hell to write it. I wanted it to be dramatic without being cheesy and original without being gimmicky. Alas, alack. But, even if I had had an ending in mind I doubt I would have been able to concentrate because at around 6:15pm, said Hotel Lobby began filling up with an assortment of characters that I have not witnessed since I left the community theatre circuit. You see folks, it was cabaret open mic night at the Algonquin, and what a night it was. I heard some singers that made my eyes water and my skin tickle from their amazing sounds and emotional resonance, others that made me laugh  by their song choice (the theme was Fear, Foreboding, and The Irish) or over the top charisma, while others made me stare down at my napkin in an attempt to keep a composed, neutral face...which if you know me at all, you know is a near impossibility.  One woman was so...odd.  She was playing the acoustic guitar and singing an original ditty which, to prevent a real facial expression outburst, forced me to pull my notebook from my purse and commit my snark to the page...one perfectly descriptive word: Phoebe.  Now, if only I could find the right words to end that chapter....