In the ghetto...
So here's what I did in NYC. And as you can probably tell, I lived through it. I took pictures on a disposable camera, but I can't afford to have them developed, so that might be a while. And I don't even know if I can get them on the computer anyway.
I packed my shit on Saturday night. The dollies didn't want to come. They knew I would only fear for their safety the entire time. Which is true. On the Concord Bus, the movie "Jack Frost" was playing, which was incredibly dumb. But that's how I like my movies. At least I was assured that if I die, then someday I will return to life as a snowman. The Feng Wah was sketchy. I itched a bit. But there were lots of Asians. The squirrel met us in Chinatown. This place is insane. Every five seconds you are bombarded with a small dark haired person asking you to buy a handbag or a designer watch in a thick Chinese accent. I held my purse so tightly to myself that my hand started to hurt. New York has far too many people in it. I hate crowds. They're in the way. Next I experienced the overpriced subway. I'm sad that most of my money went to riding that damn thing, and I lost my $10 Metro card, so that sucked ass. The ride was so very long. Nicolita would have enjoyed it though, being surrounded by black people. These people are real, they're from the Bronx. I didn't fuck with them. Also, the subway was surprisingly clean. I expected far more filth. The Bronx is pretty much what it looks like on TV. No building is without graffiti. Lots of brick, litter, that kind of thing. Woodlawn looks exactly like it did when I stalked Ashley on Google Maps. She has a nice little place. Quiet neighborhood. Charming. That night we went to an Irish bar/restaurant and I ordered nachos. Afterwards we went into Manhattan to look around and go bar-hopping. I really enjoyed the Brooklyn Bridge. When I walked across it I exclaimed, "This is where Meg Ryan jumped off in 'Kate & Leopold'!". It was so cool. I was sad that it was too foggy to see the Statue of Liberty.
I was pretty cranky right up until New Year's Eve. I wasn't feeling the bar scene in Manhattan. I just wanted to find Donald Trump and see the sights. I guess I was homesick, and getting really irritated by being called Memere the whole time. We went to this place that was once a beauty shop and is now a bar. It was like the White Heart. Again, I wasn't really feeling it. There were so many people and I was annoyed. We met some guys who were homely and uninteresting. There were three so one of them probably expected to be talking to me the whole night, as the other ladies stole the other two. But I wasn't used to the 4am closing and I was so exhausted I didn't want to bother. I don't care how British he was. I wanted to go home and sleep, because I was dozing off in my seat, but well. So I found a chair in the corner and took a nap. So I guess I'm not fit for Manhattan. I don't care about fashion and I have a glorious absence of sophistication.
Next day we went around town and saw everything I needed to see. The ladies were less enthusiastic, but I said I'm in New York, and I want to see New York dammit. But I should not have worn my heeled boots. Cause I was in excruciating pain by the end of the day. I am pleased though: I saw the WTC, Rockefeller Center, Radio City Music Hall, Trump Tower, Tiffany's, Apple Computers (I shouted at them that the iPod battery sucks ass), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Central Park (where Jennifer Lopez was in Maid in Manhattan!) and lots of famous designer clothing shops that I would never go to.
That night we tried our luck in Brooklyn. I tried really hard to not be cranky, cause I knew I was starting to piss people off. I really tried. Essentially I just wasn't getting drunk enough before. We went to a lovely establishment called the Alligator Lounge that played bad ass rock music, which was very very refreshing. I had Brooklyn pizza and it was so delicious I can't even handle it. Holy shit. Papa J's has it all wrong. The drinks were expensive (anywhere in NY really). You get a tiny ass fruit mixed drink for like $7, which you finish in one sip. This is why I'm broke now.
Afterwards we meandered over to the Union Pool, which was once a pool store. Really, NY, what's with the businesses turned into bars everywhere? The ladies wanted to dance, but I said aw hell to the no. Not when I'm that sober. Then it was 2008 and a small blond girl with a David Spade haircut got up onto the bar and played Auld Lang Synge on the trumpet. I thought she was a boy at first. Honest mistake. We had champagne and I was grateful to be outside with the smokers (for once) because it was charming in the little backyard they had going, with lights and a fire pit. Lovely. Not like inside with the gyrating canned sardines. I'm sorry, I don't like strangers gyrating on me. Outside we met a gentleman named Arthur and his designated ugly friend who everyone ignored. Arthur was cute, and he bought us drinks (me even!). I told him I had expensive taste, but he didn't mind. I made him get me a ginger whiskey. By then I was intoxicated and actually having a fairly good time. Arthur kissed me on the cheek when he left, and even though he clearly liked Ashley a lot more, I still felt pretty damn good. I was dancing off to the side, singing along to "Livin' On a Prayer" when a black man came up beside me and showed off his air guitar skills, telling me he could really play guitar. He was pretty delightful. Later Lindsay went home with some random guy. I went outside with Ashley, who was quite trashedly at that point. She'd been talking to a boy with a whale on his shirt. But now we were outside and talking to these two other guys that Ashley doesn't remember. I think they were both named Matt. One of them was bespectacled and really cute. He bought me a lot of whiskey, although I was pretty plastered at this point and informed him that I probably didn't need any more. He was a chivalrous gentleman and insisted. I fell in love with him, but I lost him after I went to the bathroom and the bar was closing, so everyone had to leave. Next me and Squirrel went with whale boy to a sick ass metal bar inappropriately called the Charleston. (No one was doing the Charleston). She started making out with him while I stood up against the wall and sang along to "Simple Kind of Man" and felt like a bad ass. After whale boy left Ashley stumbled upon a table full of homely Brazilians that her drunken eyes must not have seen very clearly. I told them about the Brazilians in Biddeford at the Dunkin Donuts. Ashley made out with one and we rode the subway with them. One of them, whose name was Dan (I called him Diego because I felt it fit more for such a gross man), offered to make out with me while Ashley made out with the other one. I quickly told him I had a loving boyfriend in Maine, which is a heinous lie. On the subway he tried to steal Ashley's sunglasses, and then he told me he wouldn't really do that. I sassed him and said, "You'd better not." I was most pleased to be rid of them. By the time we got home it was 7am and we were so freakin exhausted we could have slept on the subway. Lindsay knocked on the window at about 1pm, so somehow she made it home. She jumped on us and claimed she was so in love. I rolled by eyes.
Then it was back home. We watched Hairspray on the bus this time. I loved it. John Travolta makes a very convincing woman. If I had money I'd purchase it. Anything is better than Jack Frost, though to be honest I was crossing my fingers for White Chicks.
I packed my shit on Saturday night. The dollies didn't want to come. They knew I would only fear for their safety the entire time. Which is true. On the Concord Bus, the movie "Jack Frost" was playing, which was incredibly dumb. But that's how I like my movies. At least I was assured that if I die, then someday I will return to life as a snowman. The Feng Wah was sketchy. I itched a bit. But there were lots of Asians. The squirrel met us in Chinatown. This place is insane. Every five seconds you are bombarded with a small dark haired person asking you to buy a handbag or a designer watch in a thick Chinese accent. I held my purse so tightly to myself that my hand started to hurt. New York has far too many people in it. I hate crowds. They're in the way. Next I experienced the overpriced subway. I'm sad that most of my money went to riding that damn thing, and I lost my $10 Metro card, so that sucked ass. The ride was so very long. Nicolita would have enjoyed it though, being surrounded by black people. These people are real, they're from the Bronx. I didn't fuck with them. Also, the subway was surprisingly clean. I expected far more filth. The Bronx is pretty much what it looks like on TV. No building is without graffiti. Lots of brick, litter, that kind of thing. Woodlawn looks exactly like it did when I stalked Ashley on Google Maps. She has a nice little place. Quiet neighborhood. Charming. That night we went to an Irish bar/restaurant and I ordered nachos. Afterwards we went into Manhattan to look around and go bar-hopping. I really enjoyed the Brooklyn Bridge. When I walked across it I exclaimed, "This is where Meg Ryan jumped off in 'Kate & Leopold'!". It was so cool. I was sad that it was too foggy to see the Statue of Liberty.
I was pretty cranky right up until New Year's Eve. I wasn't feeling the bar scene in Manhattan. I just wanted to find Donald Trump and see the sights. I guess I was homesick, and getting really irritated by being called Memere the whole time. We went to this place that was once a beauty shop and is now a bar. It was like the White Heart. Again, I wasn't really feeling it. There were so many people and I was annoyed. We met some guys who were homely and uninteresting. There were three so one of them probably expected to be talking to me the whole night, as the other ladies stole the other two. But I wasn't used to the 4am closing and I was so exhausted I didn't want to bother. I don't care how British he was. I wanted to go home and sleep, because I was dozing off in my seat, but well. So I found a chair in the corner and took a nap. So I guess I'm not fit for Manhattan. I don't care about fashion and I have a glorious absence of sophistication.
Next day we went around town and saw everything I needed to see. The ladies were less enthusiastic, but I said I'm in New York, and I want to see New York dammit. But I should not have worn my heeled boots. Cause I was in excruciating pain by the end of the day. I am pleased though: I saw the WTC, Rockefeller Center, Radio City Music Hall, Trump Tower, Tiffany's, Apple Computers (I shouted at them that the iPod battery sucks ass), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Central Park (where Jennifer Lopez was in Maid in Manhattan!) and lots of famous designer clothing shops that I would never go to.
That night we tried our luck in Brooklyn. I tried really hard to not be cranky, cause I knew I was starting to piss people off. I really tried. Essentially I just wasn't getting drunk enough before. We went to a lovely establishment called the Alligator Lounge that played bad ass rock music, which was very very refreshing. I had Brooklyn pizza and it was so delicious I can't even handle it. Holy shit. Papa J's has it all wrong. The drinks were expensive (anywhere in NY really). You get a tiny ass fruit mixed drink for like $7, which you finish in one sip. This is why I'm broke now.
Afterwards we meandered over to the Union Pool, which was once a pool store. Really, NY, what's with the businesses turned into bars everywhere? The ladies wanted to dance, but I said aw hell to the no. Not when I'm that sober. Then it was 2008 and a small blond girl with a David Spade haircut got up onto the bar and played Auld Lang Synge on the trumpet. I thought she was a boy at first. Honest mistake. We had champagne and I was grateful to be outside with the smokers (for once) because it was charming in the little backyard they had going, with lights and a fire pit. Lovely. Not like inside with the gyrating canned sardines. I'm sorry, I don't like strangers gyrating on me. Outside we met a gentleman named Arthur and his designated ugly friend who everyone ignored. Arthur was cute, and he bought us drinks (me even!). I told him I had expensive taste, but he didn't mind. I made him get me a ginger whiskey. By then I was intoxicated and actually having a fairly good time. Arthur kissed me on the cheek when he left, and even though he clearly liked Ashley a lot more, I still felt pretty damn good. I was dancing off to the side, singing along to "Livin' On a Prayer" when a black man came up beside me and showed off his air guitar skills, telling me he could really play guitar. He was pretty delightful. Later Lindsay went home with some random guy. I went outside with Ashley, who was quite trashedly at that point. She'd been talking to a boy with a whale on his shirt. But now we were outside and talking to these two other guys that Ashley doesn't remember. I think they were both named Matt. One of them was bespectacled and really cute. He bought me a lot of whiskey, although I was pretty plastered at this point and informed him that I probably didn't need any more. He was a chivalrous gentleman and insisted. I fell in love with him, but I lost him after I went to the bathroom and the bar was closing, so everyone had to leave. Next me and Squirrel went with whale boy to a sick ass metal bar inappropriately called the Charleston. (No one was doing the Charleston). She started making out with him while I stood up against the wall and sang along to "Simple Kind of Man" and felt like a bad ass. After whale boy left Ashley stumbled upon a table full of homely Brazilians that her drunken eyes must not have seen very clearly. I told them about the Brazilians in Biddeford at the Dunkin Donuts. Ashley made out with one and we rode the subway with them. One of them, whose name was Dan (I called him Diego because I felt it fit more for such a gross man), offered to make out with me while Ashley made out with the other one. I quickly told him I had a loving boyfriend in Maine, which is a heinous lie. On the subway he tried to steal Ashley's sunglasses, and then he told me he wouldn't really do that. I sassed him and said, "You'd better not." I was most pleased to be rid of them. By the time we got home it was 7am and we were so freakin exhausted we could have slept on the subway. Lindsay knocked on the window at about 1pm, so somehow she made it home. She jumped on us and claimed she was so in love. I rolled by eyes.
Then it was back home. We watched Hairspray on the bus this time. I loved it. John Travolta makes a very convincing woman. If I had money I'd purchase it. Anything is better than Jack Frost, though to be honest I was crossing my fingers for White Chicks.