Dear Alice Tully Hall, <\/p>\n
I hope this blog post finds you well. I often work at the cafe in your beautifully redesigned space, as blogged about here<\/a>. I enjoy the glass walls, the proximity to that BCBG that always has good sales, and having Campari at my disposal at all hours of the day. <\/p>\n This is all why I was saddened a few months back when I realized that the only outlets in the cafe area had been mysteriously turned off. Too bad, I thought: I look so hip and awesome with my MacBook Pro; don’t you want me working in your window? Let me be your mannequin. <\/p>\n Around 5pm last night, I was delighted that my spot in the cafe was open and–what’s this??–a fancy new outlet had appeared! A working <\/i>fancy new outlet. I immediately e mailed about four people and put the good news on Twitter<\/a>. No sooner had I finished publicizing your cafe as a great work space, though, did a sinewy figure (i.e. waitress) approach. <\/p>\n “Are you plugged in?” she asked. <\/p>\n “To the wall? Or like..to society?” I replied. <\/p>\n “I’m sorry: Lincoln Center provides free internet, but you’re not allowed to use Lincoln Center’s electricity.”<\/p>\n