My Adam, His Eve

Last week my husband and I braved the NYC train and subway monsters and traveled to the Sheen Center in Greenwich Village to see a play titled, “The Journals of Adam and Eve.” It was roughly based on Mark Twain’s short story, The Diaries of Adam and Eve.
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This bit of claymation was from a TV show that we watched back in the 90s.

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When we left the house we kinda knew where we were going; up to Hoboken to take the Path to Penn Station in Manhattan.  He was looking for a certain parking building that we used before but when he found a different one, we opted for the one in hand, as opposed to the one in the bush we were unable to locate.

We bought our Metro Cards and started our journey to Penn Station. Half way there I got a feeling that if I had looked closer we would have found that one of the earlier stops of the train would have saved us a lot time. But the fare was the same no matter where we got off, so we stayed the course and kept going. Once at Penn Station we then had to find the F train in the subway that would take us back down the line! Ah well!

Did I mention how gritty and awful the air quality was? The humidity was so bad that by the time we got to the Sheen Center we were soaked in sweat! And I bet my face was bright red.

Thank you Jesus, when we got there the door was open and they were selling bottled water and small bags of chips, we were soaked in sweat and I unceremoniously dropped down on the steps leading up to the box office window and started to cool. There was a counter selling water and small bags of chips. I was saved!! A manager appeared to tell me that sitting on the steps was a fire hazard and I would have to move. Ah well. I found spot to prop up the wall and waited for orchestra doors to open.

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There were plenty of laughs, especially when Eve was listing off the things that Adam did that ticked her off, like when he chewed his food loudly, his snoring and picking food out of his teeth with little bits of wood. I looked over at him and he gave me a sheepish glance.
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Then Adam had the nerve to call her bossy!

The show was 90 minutes long. There was a 2nd part that we probably would have loved. It was an interview between two authentic Jewish rabbis and Hal and Marilu.  We had to leave early. Getting onto the street on 6th Ave and Bleeker St we decided to hail a cab. We got one right away, and yay! It took us right to Penn Station.  

Getting into a taxi in Manhattan is like getting into an armored  tank! The bullet proof window between the driver and us was so thick that we couldn’t hear a word of what he said to us. When he drooped us at Penn Station he finally turned around and we could read his lips.

We made it back to the parking garage at 9:45, 15 minutes to spare and we were the last car there, He attendant was annoyed. I’m sure he would have left early if we’d come back sooner. Oh well.

Overall, it was an adventure I was glad we’d taken, even with the terrible humidity, the stolen bag of chips, missing the last part and the show and the strain on his face because he was worried about getting back to the car before they locked the gate and we would have needed to find a hotel. And we were home before by midnight!

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But I have to say it, Mark Twain's book was better.