On the way to a party I put on my bodysuit. There is too much smoke in the hangout room. I sneak off to the bedroom thinking it's the bath. The real bathroom has an enormous crystal garden in a vast clear bowl with slots on the bottom, hanging directly over a fountain in the palatial hotel lobby. This, I'm later told, is the next generation of composting toilets, for which we have Guiliani to thank. I can't bring myself to use it.