Emily Brady goes on a date with Carlos. They watch a Mets game and trade small talk. There is no chemistry and no chance of sexual contact between them — in fact, they agreed on that beforehand. The kicker is, Carlos paid Emily $200 for the date. Many other men pay the women of the Austen’s Janes Agency for similar encounters. Good clean fun or half-assed hooking? Read it and see.
Barack Obama challenged the presumptive Presidential nominee Hillary Clinton last year, and won. Now he’s leaning on local Dems not to challenge Kirsten Gillibrand, the appointed Senator who will face election next year. What gives? Tom Robbins roots around.
This year’s Cannes Film Festival sure sounds like fun. But it wasn’t all “crushed testicles, ejaculated blood, and clitoral circumcision self-performed in tight close-up.” There was also Quentin Tarantino, a “sardonic soap opera,” and a giant penis. J. Hoberman reports.
The headline: “Madonna‘s Uncut Boy Toy.” In the second graf: “Tony nominee and screen legend Jane Fonda will be thrilled to know that I just peed on her!” Michael Musto. He just keeps bringin’ it.
Gazala Place “claims to be the country’s only Druze restaurant.” That’s nice. But how’s the food? Robert Sietsema tucks in.
Food: Sarah DiGregorio on Metro Cafe.
Art: Robert Shuster on Beate Gutschow at Sonnabend, Chance Encounters at Ludlow 38, and Polish Posters, 1945-89 at MOMA.