Day 2: Start spreading the news
CHELSEA -- First off, an apology to a long-time classmate of mine, Heather, who had brought her daughter to NY for a 24-hour period. I tried to meet up with her, but I was just too fast, as you'll see.
The morning started off with a quick dash to the Apple store for a electrical-outlet phone charger, as needed. It was then off for a quick view of Today, but not before a quick nip of a petite quiche at the Bouchon Bakery. Heather wasn't there yet.
After a less-than-thrilling segment on home fire safety, I needed to replace my umbrella, so it was off to the Brooklyn Target. (It seems that this is the one place I must visit every time I'm here. It must be the cool buggy-escalators.) Unfortunately, Target didn't have the stick umbrellas that I prefer, so I went across Flatbush to Modell's, where I found a suitable replacement.
After checking out of the hotel in Queens and dropping off my luggage in Chelsea, I went back uptown to Times Square, where I learned that Heather and her daughter were already at the airport. ("At least we tried," read the text message.) So it was lunch for one at BB King's Lucille Grill, where I had a red onion and tomato salad with steak. (It did challenge me as to which fork to use. I decided to use both.)
Afterward, I subway-hopped for a bit, amazed at some seemingly inaccessible locations for graffiti on buildings in Queens and Brooklyn. I then started my 24 hours of art in the City by stopping in at the Angelika Film Center, where I viewed Martha Marcy May Marlene. It was a haunting film about a woman's recovery from a cult.
Dinner was a near-total fail. My first two picks -- Hudson Station Bar & Grill and the Tick-Tock Diner -- fell victim to big crowds. So instead, I stopped off at the TGIFriday's in Penn Station, where it felt like the bartendress was ignoring me. After repeated requests for a menu, all I ended up with was a raspberry ice tea -- from a bartender.
Undaunted, I moved on to Lincoln Center, to view the Met's production of Gounod's Faust. I was able to purchase a smoked salmon sandwich ($10) from the bar, which sated my appetite for the upcoming 3-hour, 40-minute show... en français... with at-your-seat subtitles.
And while it was a serious opera about science v religion, human nature, and desire, Satan (of all people) had the best line.
He proved to Faust that the virtuous maiden would always choose the finest jewels over flowers. Satan used the most vulgar language in existence -- English -- when, as an aside, he said, "Diamonds are a girl's best friend."
Tonight's accommodations are brought to you by the Hotel Indigo-Chelsea. (Like the one in Sarasota, I redeemed frequent-sleeper points to book what would normally be a $199 room.)
The morning started off with a quick dash to the Apple store for a electrical-outlet phone charger, as needed. It was then off for a quick view of Today, but not before a quick nip of a petite quiche at the Bouchon Bakery. Heather wasn't there yet.
After a less-than-thrilling segment on home fire safety, I needed to replace my umbrella, so it was off to the Brooklyn Target. (It seems that this is the one place I must visit every time I'm here. It must be the cool buggy-escalators.) Unfortunately, Target didn't have the stick umbrellas that I prefer, so I went across Flatbush to Modell's, where I found a suitable replacement.
After checking out of the hotel in Queens and dropping off my luggage in Chelsea, I went back uptown to Times Square, where I learned that Heather and her daughter were already at the airport. ("At least we tried," read the text message.) So it was lunch for one at BB King's Lucille Grill, where I had a red onion and tomato salad with steak. (It did challenge me as to which fork to use. I decided to use both.)
Afterward, I subway-hopped for a bit, amazed at some seemingly inaccessible locations for graffiti on buildings in Queens and Brooklyn. I then started my 24 hours of art in the City by stopping in at the Angelika Film Center, where I viewed Martha Marcy May Marlene. It was a haunting film about a woman's recovery from a cult.
Dinner was a near-total fail. My first two picks -- Hudson Station Bar & Grill and the Tick-Tock Diner -- fell victim to big crowds. So instead, I stopped off at the TGIFriday's in Penn Station, where it felt like the bartendress was ignoring me. After repeated requests for a menu, all I ended up with was a raspberry ice tea -- from a bartender.
Undaunted, I moved on to Lincoln Center, to view the Met's production of Gounod's Faust. I was able to purchase a smoked salmon sandwich ($10) from the bar, which sated my appetite for the upcoming 3-hour, 40-minute show... en français... with at-your-seat subtitles.
And while it was a serious opera about science v religion, human nature, and desire, Satan (of all people) had the best line.
He proved to Faust that the virtuous maiden would always choose the finest jewels over flowers. Satan used the most vulgar language in existence -- English -- when, as an aside, he said, "Diamonds are a girl's best friend."
Tonight's accommodations are brought to you by the Hotel Indigo-Chelsea. (Like the one in Sarasota, I redeemed frequent-sleeper points to book what would normally be a $199 room.)