At 6.30am on Monday a pavement in lower Manhattan is thick with young people, dressed as if for a party. The lady in front of me is in a black frock and matching hat. It might be a line for a nightclub, or the queue for Shakespeare in the Park.
But it’s another show altogether that has gripped New York and indeed most of the country. It is the trial of Sean Combs, the rapper, music and television mogul known variously as Diddy, P Diddy and Puff Daddy.
At about 8am the great snaking line of podcasters, YouTubers and assorted gawkers, mixed in with newspaper and TV reporters, is fed into a glass lobby of the courthouse, where it winds back and forth like the queue at airport security.
