I slept with the fishes
The Museum of Natural History’s first-ever slumber party for adults is a whale of a good time
I T’S an hour after midnight, and the Hall of Saurischian Dinosaurs is nearly empty. As an overeager tour guide spits out facts about the Apatosaurus fossil towering over us, I stare at the beast, willing it to come to life.
If I’m going to be sleeping at the American Museum of Natural History, I’d like at least some of the action Ben Stiller found in “A Night at the Museum.”
That 2006 adventure flick probably inspired all 150 of us to sign up for the AMNH’s first “Night at the Museum for Grown-Ups.” A spinoff of the kid-friendly event that’s drawn 64,000 participants since 2006, last weekend’s 21-and-up night sold out in three hours, even at a steep $375 ($325 for museum members).
A jazz trio serenades us Friday night at 6:30 as we head to the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life to claim our cots. It’s here we’ll be sleeping later, underneath the museum’s iconic 94-foot (fiberglass) blue whale.
But first there’s a Champagne reception on the terrace, where I’m surprised by the diversity of those around me. I’d expected a horde of bespectacled geeks in socks and sandals; instead, there are lots of young couples, middle-aged couples and large groups of friends, all different ethnicities and walks of life.
The reception’s followed by a three-course meal just off the terrace — salad, chicken with risotto, chocolate tart — accompanied by many glasses of wine. Just how many is made clear by the rising noise level and general degree of rowdiness as the dinner progresses. And while visitors can go just about anywhere, it seems some couples are bent on finding secluded corners to practice some biology on their own.
The rest of us head for the museum’s special exhibits — “Spiders Alive!,” starring more than 20 live arachnids, and a lecture from curator Mark Siddall on “The Power of Poison.” Siddall is such a hit with everyone that they line up with him afterward for selfies.
More my style is a live animal show in which I discover that lemurs are the greatest thing on earth — you haven’t lived until you’ve seen one eat a banana. I also realize that I need never be so close to a python again.
A flashlight tour of the dinosaurs — with spooky shadows lurking around every corner — is a memorable experience. So, too, are the midnight milk and cookies. There’s a Neil deGrasse Tyson-narrated “Dark Universe Space Show” in the Planetarium, but I skip it — I’m too busy chilling with that Apatosaurus.
By 1:30 a.m., the halls close as it’s time to tuck in. We all change into comfortable clothes, though not actual pajamas, which are banned — what are the museum heads afraid of, an orgy? — and try to get whatever shut-eye is possible before the 7 a.m. wake-up call from a friendly lady with a microphone. Since my cot is about a foot shorter than my body, that will mean approximately 30 minutes of sleep.
There are muffins and orange juice in the morning, along with a guided tour of mammals and some hearty encouragement to visit the gift shop. As we bid farewell at about 9 a.m., I pause in front of the Alaskan brown bears, begging for one last chance at that nighttime museum magic.
I think one winks at me. Then again, it’s probably just sleep deprivation.