Like seven inches from the midday sun.
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I used to live near The Jane Hotel, one of the best places in New York. At any time of year you could stumble into the dimly lit plush quiet of the ballroom, get a comically large martini, and enjoy yourself. If it was cold outside, there would be a fire; if it was warm, the air conditioning would be ice cold.
A friend who had lived near the Jane was taken aback when I mentioned going there. “Don’t you have to be a model to get in?” she asked. There were a few ways to take this—among them, wow, I must look like a model—but it turned out that yeah, that was how it used to be. It’s not anymore. The Jane: it used to be a hot girl joint, but now it’s not. But does this make it, today, a hot girl joint? Anyway, sorry, this is another newsletter about the internet.