In 1979, Donald Trump and the City of New York cut a deal. His flagship skyscraper, Trump Tower, could be fifty-eight stories tall—about twenty stories taller than would normally be allowed so close to Central Park—if parts of the lobby, balcony, and terraces were designated as “privately owned public spaces,” accessible to anyone who wandered in. So now, as a daily trickle of businessmen, politicians, and celebrities pass through the marble lobby on their way upstairs, to pay homage to the President-elect, a crowd of spectators—reporters, tourists, Trump supporters, Trump opponents—is allowed to gather and enjoy the circus.

On a recent Wednesday morning, about two dozen members of the press clustered behind a velvet rope, pointing their cameras at a bank of four gold-plated elevators. “The tourists are out early today,” one reporter said. She gestured across the lobby, where three dozen visitors were cordoned off behind another velvet rope, next to an Ivanka Trump jewelry boutique.

“I feel bad for them,” another reporter said. “They’re on vacation in New York—they could be doing anything! It’s, like, ‘Well, kids, we were going to go to the Met today, but instead we’re gonna stand in a lobby and try to take pictures of some senators.’ ”

“They think it’s going to be like yesterday,” Tamara Gitt, a Fox News producer, said. The previous day, the guest list had included Bill Gates, who talked to Trump about “innovation”; two retired football players, Jim Brown and Ray Lewis, who talked to Trump about “urban development”; and Kanye West, who talked to Trump about “life” and “multicultural issues.” After West’s meeting, Trump had come down to the lobby with him and addressed the reporters. Gitt said, “I’m here every day, and, trust me, most days are not like yesterday. I think people are gonna be disappointed.”

On a balcony overlooking the lobby, a Starbucks played smooth jazz. On the lower level, where Trump announced his campaign for President, last June, was a Trump Store (for sale: Trump ties, Trump money clips, Trump colognes, called Empire and Success), the Trump Grill (the taco bowl costs eighteen dollars), and Trump’s Ice Cream Parlor. “Would you guys judge me if I got some ice cream right now?” a field producer named Marcus DiPaola asked. It was 8:30 A.M. “I’ve been doing a lot of stress eating.” As he walked past, his friends in the press pool pelted him with mock questions: “Sir! Who are you here to meet with today, sir?” DiPaola stepped into an elevator, smiled wanly, and gave them the finger as the doors closed.

The Trump Bar opened at noon, and one of the first customers was the street performer known as the Naked Cowboy. His normal turf is Times Square, but he’s been spending a lot of time at Trump Tower. He ordered—“Vodka with a splash of orange juice”—and took a corner stool. Over his shoulder were a TV and a magnum of Trump Champagne. He wore his signature getup—cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and Fruit of the Loom briefs with “Trump” on the rear—plus a silk boxer’s robe decorated with the Stars and Stripes. “I wear it while I’m indoors, out of respect,” he said. “I have an affinity with Trump. I get him. We’re both media promoters, media whores, whatever you want to call it. People get hung up on political stuff, but I don’t care. Black, white, gay, transvestite—just stand up and make something of yourself. Look, my wife’s a Mexican immigrant. She still doesn’t have her papers. Maybe she’ll be the next to be deported, who knows? I don’t think he’d do that. But if he does, hey, that’s fate. Plus, it’s a nice thing to have hanging over her head—you know, ‘Do the dishes, or else.’ ”

The big event of the day, scheduled for 2 P.M., was a “tech summit” with executives from I.B.M., Amazon, Facebook, and about ten other companies. Elon Musk, the C.E.O. of Tesla, dashed into an elevator before photographers could get a clear shot of him. Tim Cook, the C.E.O. of Apple, used a private entrance. Executives from Twitter weren’t invited, a Trump spokesman told the press, because “the conference table was only so big.”

The reporters began to pack up for the day, and the Secret Service cleared the lobby for a Trump Organization Christmas party. Among the refreshments was a spread of sushi with miniature American flags stuck in the crushed ice. Faith Kemp and Donna Roan, sisters-in-law from Virginia, lingered in the tourist area. “Seems like everyone’s waiting for nothing at all,” Roan said.

“You know how Americans are—we see a line and get in it,” Kemp said.

“Tell you what, we’re not seeing Trump or Kanye today,” Roan said.

“I don’t know, I like the energy, the possibility,” Kemp said. “I think this is my favorite thing we’ve done in the city so far.” ♦