As a single girl, I find these Imette St. Guillen articles seriously freaky, but tonight I decided to take a break from work and go see Say Hi To Your Mom at Rothko. Unlike that girl Imette, I would never be stupid enough to stay out till 4 a.m. at a bar on the Lower East Side with a total stranger. Oh, wait… I did. And we talked about geeky environmental stuff all night, and he didn’t kill me or duct tape me or wrap me in a blanket.

After a week of watching way too much CSI, I’d like to thank this lovely city for reminding me that not every stranger wants me dead. On a brighter note, here’s a blurry photo from the show. I like that it says “Hi” in sparkly letters on the drum: