Got Your Ticket?

A night in 1980s New York that ended with two empty pockets and a flight to catch

“Bob, what are you doing!” I shouted. ⁣⁣

My client Bob and I were in New York City on an annual report assignment. We had just left a place called the Pink Piano, one of those places where you need to know where to look. Bob did. Everything in the place was pink, including the piano. If it wasn’t named Pink Piano, it should have been. Bob, a writer, had a strict policy - he would only stand at the bar, whether one or many bourbons. Me? I wanted to sit on a time-worn bar stool, resting both elbows, leaning into the old wood, a three-point stance for when balance and common sense collided. “Hey, you guys want another round?” shouted out the bartender, her sequined top shimmering in the light, or was that the mini mirror ball, I’m not sure. “Sure, but that’s all, we’ll get our tab,” my words tumbling out.⁣

View of lower Manhattan in the early 1980s, shot from the observation deck of the Empire State building⁣. Olympus 35RC camera and Kodak Tri-X film.

View of the Empire State Building from 28th Street.

The Pink Piano was a place we shouldn’t have been, at least on the company expense account. Bob and I were walking back, oblivious to the late hour, when two ladies in fishnets, short skirts, and large hair wrapped their arms around each of us. His wallet and my wallet involuntarily departed our pockets. There wasn’t much cash, most of our bills were already in the tip jar of the lady at the piano with the massive platinum hair and matching massive bosom.⁣

From the observation deck of the Empire State building⁣ in the early 1980s. Olympus 35RC camera and Kodak Tri-X film. ⁣⁣

My head was still spinning when the phone rang, the ring where you know the phone is ringing but the energy to reach over and grab the phone might hurt too much. “Ron,” said Bob, “you got your wallet?” Panicked, I searched my pants, no wallet. “Nope, you got yours?” I responded. ⁣“OK,” he said, “our flight leaves in a few hours.” With a long pause, he followed up. “Got your ticket?” ⁣

The author with his Olympus 35RC camera in the early 1980s.⁣

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In the 1980s, getting mugged in NYC was a rite of passage. IDs were not required to board flights until the 1990s.⁣