A drunken ethnography. By Selma White-Pascual Illustration by Kathleen Halley-Segal I clutch the gate next to me for balance as I shove my sweaty feet into a pair of six-inch heels I’ve just pulled out of my now deflated bag, perched atop a little ledge. Also on the ledge: a sultry perfume I’ve chosen for the night, makeup to retouch my face, banana blossom leftovers from Thai Diner on Mott Street, and the loose 20 dollar bill I’ll be using tonight. I’ve exchanged my trusty s