Alright my readers, after much anticipation, here is my account of my trip to the big apple....
Last week my friend P called me up to announce that she was going to New York City for the weekend. She said her parents were driving down to visit friends and she was tagging along. Now I've been on vacation with P's family in the past and they drive her mental, and for some reason they think I'm the bee's knees. So, I asked if there was any room for me in the car. I wasn't doing anything better in Toronto, that's for sure. I called my mom to tell her I was leaving town only to have to listen to the inevitable fretting about me getting my body cavities searched at the border, loosing my passport, getting mugged, beaten and god-knows what else. I'm not saying my mother's fears are unfounded, I'm just saying that if my mother had nothing worthwhile to worry about, then she'd worry about something that wasn't worthwhile.
P's family lives down near the American border (an hour an a half drive out of the city) so the night before the trip we take the bus down to her parents place. Now I don't know if any of you have ever tried to take a bus out of town on Holy Thursday night, but it's insane at the terminal. And huge line-ups and being packed in the bus like sardines doesn't bother me nearly as much as the inevitable run-in with people you don't want to run into at the bus terminal. I'm particularly sensitive to this because I hate running into anybody, ever. And running into someone you don't want to see at the bus terminal is much worse than running into them on the street, because there is always the chance that you're going to the same place and you'll have to sit next to them on the bus. So I walk into the terminal, gritting my teeth, trying to look for P without making eye contact with anyone I might have to make awkward conversation with - this is a difficult balancing act. Anyway, I did run into someone, my pal Core who wasn't going anywhere at all, just happened to be in the neighbourhood to pick up some tickets for another time. The first time ever I ran into someone I like at the bus terminal. A good omen for the beginning of a trip.
We get down to P's hometown, her mom picks us up, Miss Ash joins us, P's mom serves us an amazing dinner, then announces that we're leaving at 5 am the next morning. So we headed out for a drink anyway. Now, I don't know if 19 (the drinking age in Ontario) is younger now than it was when I was 19, or if I behaved this way too and was oblivious to it's effects on others, but, my god, some of the people at the bar we went to were obnoxious!
4:30 am, dear God that's early! The bridge over Niagara Falls isn't nearly as fun at that hour either, did you know that they turn the lights off on the falls at some point of the night? It make sense I suppose.
Half way there, we stop at a McDonald's and in the line next to us were a huge Pennsylvania Dutch family, dressed in traditional clothes, so cool. I thought eating at McDonald's would be verboten for them.
We get into NYC, miss an exit, get lost, get directions from a woman named Lakeesha and know we've arrived.
Now the friend we are staying with, the Hegelian, has recently become religious and was planning on attending Good Friday mass. I thought, a nice old church in New York, the holiest day of the year... why not go to mass with her. We get there, meet up with her, and head into mass, P's Muslim, at least culturally - I've seen her eat a whole lot of pork lately, so we know she's not devout. Anyway, the service is nice enough, until they get to the point where they venerate the cross. The venerated that darn cross for like 3 hours. P fell asleep. Then they had communion and everyone started to get up and go to the front row by row again - P looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. Thankfully, the communion went much faster and we headed to a nearby sushi restaurant to eat some fish.
The next morning we had canolis and egg and sausage rolls and headed into the city and straight down to battery park to catch the Staten Island ferry. I've done this before a couple of times, but P had never done it, we got some cute pictures. Then we went shopping. Oh how we shopped. Steve Madden shoes, they are sooo lovely, you can get them in Toronto, but in NYC they have a whole store devoted to the man. Then we went for dinner at a Cuban restaurant in Soho, the Habana Cafe. I can't talk enough about how good their roasted corn was. It was so good, I'm salivating while I write this. It was roasted, then rubbed with lime, then sprinkled with cheese then sprinkled with spices and finished off with a dab of mayo. The rest of the food was good, but that corn, that corn! I need more of that corn. After that we went to a bar called Max Fish. Cute decor, friendly patrons, I met a guy named Stan, he started hitting on me, then realized too late that he'd played his cards wrong and made his commitment too early - I was the only one in my posse who wasn't single, but once you hit on one girl in a group, it's too late to back pedal and try to hit on another one in the same group. Stan, tried anyway. It didn't work.
The next morning we headed straight for White Castle for breakfast. Sooo tasty. P thought it would be terrible, but really liked the clam strips. Then we went shopping for ghetto fabulous clothes for P. Then we headed into the city again and were late meeting the Hegelian after Easter mass on the upper east side. Here's my question about the upper east side, are blue double breasted blazers with gold buttons back in fashion and I don't know it? Or is this the only pocket of the world where they are still in fashion, or are they in an 80s time warp? What's the deal. It wasn't just old guys who were dressed that way either. Blue double breasted blazer with gold buttons, khaki pants, and loafers? I don't get it. Someone please explain...
Anyway, we headed into Central Park with our papers. P got the Sunday New York Times. I got the Vanity Fair with my boyfriend David Miller in it. I'd never normally buy Vanity Fair, so I had to flip through to make sure that it was the David Miller issue, horrible picture of him though, he's looked much better. Vanity Fair had better articles than I was expecting.
We grabbed some Pizza and headed for Serendipity - the cafe made famous by the John Cusack movie of the same name. We had an hour and a half wait, so we headed for a nearby bar, better than sitting on the sidewalk with our Let's Go New York guidebooks and our windbreakers looking like tourists - shudder! Every time I go to NYC I always worry about looking like a tourist asking for directions, pulling out the guide book or a map, but then I get there and I realize that there are so many tourists there, that it doesn't even matter.
Serendipity was cool, the frozen hot chocolate was tasty. P couldn't stop eating it, even though it made her so cold she started shivering. She could barely get her spoon in her mouth but she wouldn't stop eating it. Then she asked me for my sweater so she could warm up and keep eating - I said no way Katherine Hepburn! She tried to protest but then she dropped a spoonful of her chocolate on her self the very next moment. This may seem harsh, but thanks to my bum knee and all the stairs we had go up and down in New York, P called me 'Gimpy' the whole trip - as in, "Come on, hurry up on those stairs Gimpy!"
After Serendipity we headed back to the Bronx and played NY themed Monopoly. It was me, P, the Hegelian, and a male friend of the Hegelian from school, I can't remember his name, let's call him Andrew. I love Monopoly, especially when I'm winning. I love to trash talk, and make deals, and I've been described, when playing Monopoly, as insufferable. The girls tried to explain this trait of my personality to Andrew, seeing as we'd only just met and I seem like a lovely person when I'm not playing Monopoly. They even tried to do an impression of my Muwahahaha winning Monopoly laugh and the way I fan my money. Anyway, it was obviously not descriptive enough for Andrew because while the girls where trying to freeze me out and get everyone to gang up against me, Andrew continued to deal with me. Needles to say I won and everyone was, as usual, disgusted with me by the end of the game. I love Monopoly.
We drove back bright and early the next morning and P's parents dropped us at the bus station. Now if you thought the bus was busy on the way out of Toronto, we had to stand in the aisle of the bus the whole way back.