The Doorman’s Diary: 8.27-28.11

A cool summer eve propped the front door open and pushed the leaded-glass double-hinged windows wide open. I assumed my station at the door, nodded a hello to the cops in the cherry top cruising past, and welcomed our first guests. The jazz quintet launched into their first songs that pushed plump music notes out into the street. We had several beautiful couples and an assortment of lone wolves, including my favorite jazz lover of the night: a hip, well-dressed little person who ably hoisted himself on the stool at the end of the bar. He may have stood out for five seconds when entering, but was quickly absorbed into the fabric of the club.