Pee-wee Herman is doing his zippy Broadway show of bratty antics at the Stephen Sondheim Theatre, which is a funny observation in itself, but not so riotous is the fact that the place is colder than showbiz can be after you’ve had a sex scandal.
For whatever godforsaken reason, the theater is kept at such a low temperature that my friend and I — and many others in the audience — kept our coats on through the show and went home with a chill that melted only when we recalled some of the night’s better gags.
Is it so you don’t even think of getting jiggy with yourself?
I don’t know, but I suggest you bring a fur, gloves, two scarves, and a babushka.
I sat there wishing Aretha Franklin had made a cameo so she could have demanded, “No air-conditioning!”