Before my rescheduled jumble of omicron-induced flights home, my last night in New Haven involved a midnight GHeav BLT, an emerald green puffer, and a fifteen minute trip to the YUAG. Well, more like a fifteen minute farewell shuffle that doubled as a 1.5 speed docent tour for my friends, who mistakenly trusted me to check the museum’s closing time (it’s earlier on Saturdays). I am certain my experience is not a unique one. If you find yourself in this position when the YUAG reopens, relish the pre-closing quiet. Pay your respects to the wooden Urhobo maternity figure on the ground floor, the one that toddlers love to hug. Glide through the Greco-Roman atrium and take the elevator to the fourth story. Stop by Marie Watts’ pink and blue patchwork on the prey and predators of land. Remind yourself that it’s February by heading out to the sculpture terrace. Eight minutes before closing, security will inform you that the stairs are to your left. Amidst the chirps of a walkie-talkie-like communication system, you will realize you have overstayed your welcome. Much to Ben Stiller’s chagrin, the security team will make sure you do not spend the night at the YUAG.