92nd Street Y

One of my 2012 New Year’s resolutions was to take an art class, so I signed up for a basic drawing at the 92nd Street Y (at Lexington).

For offering countless creative courses, the Y’s restroom was an unexpected snoozefest. Plain white tile with a row of turquoise. A vintage, tulip-shaped votive. A coat rack. The only sign of art was hand-sketches figures marking the men’s and women’s rooms, and a folded up table in the hallway, splattered with paint. Another thrilling feature? The first time I used the restroom, someone ha shortly before “lost their lunch” there (I first heard that phrase as a small child at an amusement park when my favorite ride — the Scrambler — was temporarily shut down; I was convinced someone had literally left a ham sandwich in a brown bag).

I didn’t learn as much in my art class as I’d hoped (partly because we got gypped out of a class because of Hurricane Sandy), so I’m still torn about the 92nd Street Y. I did acquire a love for drawing with charcoal and enjoyed trying my hand with ink. Overall, I think it was worth it.

Restroom Rating: [rating=1]