Human beings build mental models for things. You don’t really think about your commute into work; you just do it, the same as you do every day. This is why every now and then, when you walk to that same subway station to go someplace else, you get on that usual morning-commute train even though you mean to go the other way. Well, we have a model for party reporting, and last night we were set to cover the after-party for Glenn Close’s new FX drama, Damages, which we were told was at Cipriani’s. We assumed that meant Cipriani 42nd Street, so we left the office at the end of the day on autopilot. We saw some police barricades; we ignored them. We turned onto 42nd Street. There were a lot of bright lights. The street was blocked off. Wow, we thought, big premiere.
We looked for someone with a clipboard. A cop told us we’d have to go to 38th Street to cross east, and so we did, figuring we’d walk back up Third Avenue to get into the party. Not once did we wonder if maybe, just maybe, the party might have been moved because of that giant gaping hole in street just a block away. FX, as it turned out, had moved the event to Cipriani’s 23rd Street location. Guests were shuttled down from the midtown screening; stars like Close and Debra Messing, whose husband, Daniel Zelman, is one of the show’s creators, boarded the buses without a fuss. “I don’t think they even knew we’d switched venues,” said a publicist. “They just go where they’re supposed to go.” Apparently even a giant ice sculpture of the word “Damages” made the journey unscathed, as did Ted Danson, who we understand is quite brittle these days. Just not us. Because we’re dumb. —Jada Yuan