One evening, after a long night of chasing “debutants” at some black-tie holiday ball at The Plaza Hotel and, subsequently, blowing all of our cash at The Oak Bar on Beefeater Gibsons, we came to the loaded question of the evening. Here we were, young and tuxedo clad, at one in the morning, with only five dollars and a subway token left in our pockets. Home was clearly not an option, but we really couldn’t afford anything else. What were we to do?
The Subway Inn.