In defense of drinking in the street
A tiki bar opened across the street from my Upper West Side office shortly before all social life in Manhattan ground to a halt due to the pandemic. I visited once, had two to three of their specialty drinks and, despite a mild headache the next morning, could tell the place was going to be a hit. Then the shutdown came. Businesses of all stripes pulled and padlocked their security grilles. Helicopters and airplanes disappeared from the skies. Traffic, except for wailing northbound ambulances, all but disappeared. Genuine fear owned the spring.