The Museum of Sex was blasted in neon pink through the glass next to the ticket counter. It was a dimly lit room with smiling employees welcoming everyone to the world-famous museum. I had been wanting to come (ha. ha.) and see it for a while and thought it would be the perfect place to go and lift (ha. ha. ha) Enzo’s mood. Seemed like I was right, because he was giggling like a little Italian schoolboy as we got our tickets and walked over to the entrance.
