On mornings like this, when I would wake up on Orchard Street with the Tenement Museum's renovation crew blasting right outside the window, I would just call in sick.
And then spend the rest of the day indulging in more gin or pheromones. And cartoons and take-out. With an occasional hop over to Babeland if we needed to replenish other supplies.
Of course, back then I still smoked, so some Nat Shermans would have been nice as well.