An Englishman in New York
Yeah...so I'm not British but it's a great song. Fuckin shoot me. But the trek back to the northeast was amazing. So amazing that I will divide the story/account into three parts: NYC, The Garden State (that's right baby...Back to my roots!), and Pennsylvania. In other, unrelated news, I returned from my travels to discover that I passed the Praxis. That's right bitches, let me know if you need me to lay some knowledge on ya, cuz there's lots of info in this fat noggin of mine.
NYC
7/11- Left the Grip at 7 am armed with a mild dumbover and three hours of sleep. I apparently have a horrible habit of drinking heavily until sunup on days that I have to catch an early flight. Yeah...maybe I should work on that. I planned on catching up on some sleep on the plane but that sure as shit didn't happen. NOONE over 5'5" can get comfortable in the jet-propelled sardine can(I swear that they must've been designed by angry pygmies hell bent on making the rest of the non-vertically challenged world painfully uncomfortable). In any event, I arrived at LaGuardia to discover two things: 1. Aaron was not alone, Whitney was with him (LONG story, but everything worked out great). 2. That Aaron, Whitney and I would need to find a place to stay b/c our plans had been changed; his friend that we were supposed to be staying with was not back from vacation yet and would not return until the following day (sidenote/explanation for trip. Aaron's getting hitched and is supposed to be moving to NYC w/ his new wife so we went to the big city to scope out some areas/run around the city/sleep very little for four days). We decided on the Westway Motor Inn in Astoria Queens. I could spend the next two hours explaining the gloriously tacky and slightly unnerving atmosphere of this place, but I'll attempt to describe it in a few sentences. The lobby was covered in its entirety in circa-1972 wood paneling. The lobby of the hotel had what seemed to be bullet-proof glass w/ a slot similar to ones that they have in the twenty four gas stations. Behind said bullet proof glass was a strange little man with an unfathomable ethnic makeup, a mustache, a cheap suit, and a horrible bedside manner. It may have been strange but I'm not complaining. There was a bed, a kommode, a shower, and plenty of locks on the door. Fuck it man. I made a cooler out of the trash can for some Coors light tall boys and called it a night. After this glorious fiasco, we decided to head to Times Square w/ the hopes of catching a Broadway Show, which we did. Sweet god damn, the city is still as crazy/amazing as I remember. Aaron placed his name in the lottery for "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" and won. So we paid 25 bucks for 115 dollar box seats. That's right. So i sat my mangy ass up in a box seat smelling like beer and sweaty man ass in a dirty shirt and dirtier jeans. I exuded culture. After the show we hit up a 24 hour deli and called it a night. (Only in NYC can you get a delicious four dollar hero sandwich at 12 am).
7/12-Checked out of the "Motor Inn" only to discover that Aaron's friend Natalie (the one we would be staying with) was running late and would not return until later that evening. After scrambling around for a place to store our luggage, Natalie's landlord graciously allowed us to store our luggage at his real estate office. Spent the rest of the day at the MET. Holy shit that place was huge. I was there for nearly four hours and didn't get a chance to see an entire floor, but I made a desperate attempt to do so. It was amazing to see all of these amazing works up close, especially after spending the last couple of years helping a hot art student study for her exams. It was nice to put an image w/ the works mentioned on those flash cards. The only downside to the MET experience - the Musical Instruments exhibit was closed for renovations. Took the subway back to Astoria, got hammered in a local pub (McCann's), and finally got to crash at Natalie's place.
7/13-Woke up on a loveseat that, despite its size, was suprisingly comfortable. I woke up as a sweaty human pretzel ready to face the day. We ate lunch with our gracious host Natalie and her mother, both of which finally arrived that morning(her roommate let us in the night before. I may be a derelict but I'm not gonna break into someone's apartment, although I did consider it). We then wandered to the Port Authority for our bus tickets to Atlantic City, our next destination, where we would be headed on the 15th. After successfully securing our tickets for the Garden State, we took the subway(where I saw a man w/ an Ab-roller at the Subway station in Times Square...I'm not really sure if that's pertinent but I admired his dedication to his mid-section) to the 8th St./NYU stop and the Great Meandering began. Walked in and around NYU, Greenwich Village, Washington Park, Soho, Little Italy, Chinatown...I must've walked twenty miles that day and loved every minute of it. Finally decided to rest at a spot in Little Italy, where I dined on a mushroom pizza and was serenaded by a troupe of tourist catering Italian musicians in full regalia. With a good meal and some much needed rest, we scrambled back to Astoria to gather Whitney's things and escorted her back to the Port Authority just in time for her 3:45 am bus back to Baltimore...Went back to Astoria and died for the night at 4:30 am.
7/14-Met up w/ Lynn (another one of Aaron's many friends in NYC) in the East Village for lunch at this amazing little Thai restaraunt. It was amazing for the following reasons: the food was great and, most importantly, cheap. Seven bucks for an entree and appetizer. It was the first time I'd eaten vegetables that were not on a hero or a pizza since I left the Dirty South. Delicious. Lynn then took us to a little known NYC hot spot-K-mart. Who knew that an interesting little blip of suburbia could be found in one of the most metropolitan cities on the planet? It was quite strange, but they had an escalator. Then came one of the more exciting moments of the trip: Aaron and I were separated on the subway. We figured out that we hopped on the wrong train. I walked off the train as Aaron looked over the map to figure out where we went wrong, only to have the door shut in his face. Normally, that wouldn't really matter but there are a few factors that one must consider before passing judgement: Aaron's cell phone was dead and disconnected, Aaron didn't have any more rides left on his subway ticket, Aaron was/is dead broke. I felt like the parent that left his kid at the funeral home after the Uncle Tommy's wake. A life-long New Yorker that was on the subway at the time was inspired to comment on our transgression, summing it up perfectly w/ one word, "Fuck!" Said New Yorker helped Aaron make his way back. No harm, no foul. Just some unneccessary excitement. After our transportation mishap, we attempted to make it back to the MET, only to discover that it would be closing 15 min. after our arrival. Spent the better part of the next hour wandering up and down fifth ave. trying to find a spot to take a leak. Just when I thought I was going to have to give a doorman a golden shower, a Starbucks appeared. Corporate America saves the day again. After this harrowing experience, I consoled myself w/ a hot dog and a hot sausage in Central Park. As I dined on the deliciously processed lips and assholes of our animal friends and enjoying the ambience of the Park, I witnessed a shirtless man in a safari hat playing the harmonica. Did I mention how much I love this city? After our brief respite in the Park, Aaron and I caught the opening night of an Off-Broadway show "A Bright Room Called Day" that Lynn was in (that rhymes...how fucking quaint). The show dealt with the political/social climate in Germany just before and shortly after Hitler's rise to power and the fall of the Weimar Republic. It was both fascinating and soul-raping. After the show, we hung out with the cast at the Around the World diner in East Village. Good people/Good times. Experienced yet another transportation mishap at 3 am b/c the subway we had planned on catching was closed for the night. We stumbled upon another station like we knew what we were doing and went about our business. Closed the night w/ a man singing loudly in the nearly deserted 59th St. station at 4 am.
7/15--Barely caught the 2:30 bus to Atlantic City. Made it from Astoria to the Port Authority in less than an hour after literally running for blocks w/ our luggage. A graciously unemployed man served as our fearless leader in the bus station; leading us to our Gate minutes before the bus left for the Garden State.
Garden State/Pennsylvania posts coming soon.
Notable quotes and snippets of vernacular from the NYC experience:
"The opera was six fuckin hours. I don't even like to have sex and eat bacon for six hours."
--One of the more memorable quotes from "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels"
"I am Superman and I can do anything."
--A tuneful ditty sung by a guard at the MET as I grudgingly sauntered out at closing time. I often wonder, "What
happened to the Man of Steel?" Now I know. He's hiding out at the Metropolitan Museum of Art disguised as a thirty
something black man dressed up as a security guard.
"Moderation is an evil thing. Nothing succeeds like excess."
--Glorious quote from Oscar Wilde that I discovered on the wall of McCann's Pub in Astoria. I took this quote to heart and
imbibed two pitchers of beer.
"Do not curb your dog in the Mews."
--A daunting request posted on an apartment building just outside Washington Square Park. If I had any fucking idea what
"curbing your dog" was or where the fuck "the Mews" was I may have been able to comply with this request.
"International Cream in my cleavage."
--Headline from a magazine on a curbside newsstand. Not sure what it means but it sounds hot. I bet there's probably a
streaming video or a webcam involved.
"Ladies and Gentlemen.I hope your next days are promising. The next stop is Broadway...Gentlemen. Stay strong"
--Overzealous prophet masquerading as a late night subway operator.
NYC
7/11- Left the Grip at 7 am armed with a mild dumbover and three hours of sleep. I apparently have a horrible habit of drinking heavily until sunup on days that I have to catch an early flight. Yeah...maybe I should work on that. I planned on catching up on some sleep on the plane but that sure as shit didn't happen. NOONE over 5'5" can get comfortable in the jet-propelled sardine can(I swear that they must've been designed by angry pygmies hell bent on making the rest of the non-vertically challenged world painfully uncomfortable). In any event, I arrived at LaGuardia to discover two things: 1. Aaron was not alone, Whitney was with him (LONG story, but everything worked out great). 2. That Aaron, Whitney and I would need to find a place to stay b/c our plans had been changed; his friend that we were supposed to be staying with was not back from vacation yet and would not return until the following day (sidenote/explanation for trip. Aaron's getting hitched and is supposed to be moving to NYC w/ his new wife so we went to the big city to scope out some areas/run around the city/sleep very little for four days). We decided on the Westway Motor Inn in Astoria Queens. I could spend the next two hours explaining the gloriously tacky and slightly unnerving atmosphere of this place, but I'll attempt to describe it in a few sentences. The lobby was covered in its entirety in circa-1972 wood paneling. The lobby of the hotel had what seemed to be bullet-proof glass w/ a slot similar to ones that they have in the twenty four gas stations. Behind said bullet proof glass was a strange little man with an unfathomable ethnic makeup, a mustache, a cheap suit, and a horrible bedside manner. It may have been strange but I'm not complaining. There was a bed, a kommode, a shower, and plenty of locks on the door. Fuck it man. I made a cooler out of the trash can for some Coors light tall boys and called it a night. After this glorious fiasco, we decided to head to Times Square w/ the hopes of catching a Broadway Show, which we did. Sweet god damn, the city is still as crazy/amazing as I remember. Aaron placed his name in the lottery for "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" and won. So we paid 25 bucks for 115 dollar box seats. That's right. So i sat my mangy ass up in a box seat smelling like beer and sweaty man ass in a dirty shirt and dirtier jeans. I exuded culture. After the show we hit up a 24 hour deli and called it a night. (Only in NYC can you get a delicious four dollar hero sandwich at 12 am).
7/12-Checked out of the "Motor Inn" only to discover that Aaron's friend Natalie (the one we would be staying with) was running late and would not return until later that evening. After scrambling around for a place to store our luggage, Natalie's landlord graciously allowed us to store our luggage at his real estate office. Spent the rest of the day at the MET. Holy shit that place was huge. I was there for nearly four hours and didn't get a chance to see an entire floor, but I made a desperate attempt to do so. It was amazing to see all of these amazing works up close, especially after spending the last couple of years helping a hot art student study for her exams. It was nice to put an image w/ the works mentioned on those flash cards. The only downside to the MET experience - the Musical Instruments exhibit was closed for renovations. Took the subway back to Astoria, got hammered in a local pub (McCann's), and finally got to crash at Natalie's place.
7/13-Woke up on a loveseat that, despite its size, was suprisingly comfortable. I woke up as a sweaty human pretzel ready to face the day. We ate lunch with our gracious host Natalie and her mother, both of which finally arrived that morning(her roommate let us in the night before. I may be a derelict but I'm not gonna break into someone's apartment, although I did consider it). We then wandered to the Port Authority for our bus tickets to Atlantic City, our next destination, where we would be headed on the 15th. After successfully securing our tickets for the Garden State, we took the subway(where I saw a man w/ an Ab-roller at the Subway station in Times Square...I'm not really sure if that's pertinent but I admired his dedication to his mid-section) to the 8th St./NYU stop and the Great Meandering began. Walked in and around NYU, Greenwich Village, Washington Park, Soho, Little Italy, Chinatown...I must've walked twenty miles that day and loved every minute of it. Finally decided to rest at a spot in Little Italy, where I dined on a mushroom pizza and was serenaded by a troupe of tourist catering Italian musicians in full regalia. With a good meal and some much needed rest, we scrambled back to Astoria to gather Whitney's things and escorted her back to the Port Authority just in time for her 3:45 am bus back to Baltimore...Went back to Astoria and died for the night at 4:30 am.
7/14-Met up w/ Lynn (another one of Aaron's many friends in NYC) in the East Village for lunch at this amazing little Thai restaraunt. It was amazing for the following reasons: the food was great and, most importantly, cheap. Seven bucks for an entree and appetizer. It was the first time I'd eaten vegetables that were not on a hero or a pizza since I left the Dirty South. Delicious. Lynn then took us to a little known NYC hot spot-K-mart. Who knew that an interesting little blip of suburbia could be found in one of the most metropolitan cities on the planet? It was quite strange, but they had an escalator. Then came one of the more exciting moments of the trip: Aaron and I were separated on the subway. We figured out that we hopped on the wrong train. I walked off the train as Aaron looked over the map to figure out where we went wrong, only to have the door shut in his face. Normally, that wouldn't really matter but there are a few factors that one must consider before passing judgement: Aaron's cell phone was dead and disconnected, Aaron didn't have any more rides left on his subway ticket, Aaron was/is dead broke. I felt like the parent that left his kid at the funeral home after the Uncle Tommy's wake. A life-long New Yorker that was on the subway at the time was inspired to comment on our transgression, summing it up perfectly w/ one word, "Fuck!" Said New Yorker helped Aaron make his way back. No harm, no foul. Just some unneccessary excitement. After our transportation mishap, we attempted to make it back to the MET, only to discover that it would be closing 15 min. after our arrival. Spent the better part of the next hour wandering up and down fifth ave. trying to find a spot to take a leak. Just when I thought I was going to have to give a doorman a golden shower, a Starbucks appeared. Corporate America saves the day again. After this harrowing experience, I consoled myself w/ a hot dog and a hot sausage in Central Park. As I dined on the deliciously processed lips and assholes of our animal friends and enjoying the ambience of the Park, I witnessed a shirtless man in a safari hat playing the harmonica. Did I mention how much I love this city? After our brief respite in the Park, Aaron and I caught the opening night of an Off-Broadway show "A Bright Room Called Day" that Lynn was in (that rhymes...how fucking quaint). The show dealt with the political/social climate in Germany just before and shortly after Hitler's rise to power and the fall of the Weimar Republic. It was both fascinating and soul-raping. After the show, we hung out with the cast at the Around the World diner in East Village. Good people/Good times. Experienced yet another transportation mishap at 3 am b/c the subway we had planned on catching was closed for the night. We stumbled upon another station like we knew what we were doing and went about our business. Closed the night w/ a man singing loudly in the nearly deserted 59th St. station at 4 am.
7/15--Barely caught the 2:30 bus to Atlantic City. Made it from Astoria to the Port Authority in less than an hour after literally running for blocks w/ our luggage. A graciously unemployed man served as our fearless leader in the bus station; leading us to our Gate minutes before the bus left for the Garden State.
Garden State/Pennsylvania posts coming soon.
Notable quotes and snippets of vernacular from the NYC experience:
"The opera was six fuckin hours. I don't even like to have sex and eat bacon for six hours."
--One of the more memorable quotes from "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels"
"I am Superman and I can do anything."
--A tuneful ditty sung by a guard at the MET as I grudgingly sauntered out at closing time. I often wonder, "What
happened to the Man of Steel?" Now I know. He's hiding out at the Metropolitan Museum of Art disguised as a thirty
something black man dressed up as a security guard.
"Moderation is an evil thing. Nothing succeeds like excess."
--Glorious quote from Oscar Wilde that I discovered on the wall of McCann's Pub in Astoria. I took this quote to heart and
imbibed two pitchers of beer.
"Do not curb your dog in the Mews."
--A daunting request posted on an apartment building just outside Washington Square Park. If I had any fucking idea what
"curbing your dog" was or where the fuck "the Mews" was I may have been able to comply with this request.
"International Cream in my cleavage."
--Headline from a magazine on a curbside newsstand. Not sure what it means but it sounds hot. I bet there's probably a
streaming video or a webcam involved.
"Ladies and Gentlemen.I hope your next days are promising. The next stop is Broadway...Gentlemen. Stay strong"
--Overzealous prophet masquerading as a late night subway operator.
posted by Cecil at 3:20 AM
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