There’s an administrative building here, just right inside where you come in. The main room on the ground floor is glassed in, so anyone walking by can watch performers staging into costumes — you know, your purple octopus here, your green blob thing there.
Every few minutes, a gaggle of performers are released into the wild. It’s like being in The Warriors, except the Baseball Furies are girls, they’re showing a lot of cleavage, they’re carrying disco balls, and they’re not trying to murder you with bats. A marked improvement, really.
In the span of 20 minutes, we saw a mob of Marie Antoinettes, a school of light-up-fish-on-stilts ladies, and the aforementioned disco girls. Kind of awesome, but if we start getting chased down the concourse by the Gramercy Riffs, we won’t hesitate to throw a dude in angel wings between us and them.