I confess that I just spent a long weekend with my wife in New York City – my favorite city in the world – and so all I was not a diligent blogger over the weekend. We got in at midnight last night & I’m still feeling the city running through my veins. So, I confess that during my confessions today I will attempt to adopt an air of superiority, like all good New Yorkers, and that I might accidentally say “friggin” a lot.
I confess that the best meal I ate in nyc was the friggin barbeque mystery meat from the vendor at 51st and 5th Avenue. I confess that it was also the cheapest.
I confess that the craziest thing I saw while in the city was in the meat packing district. It was a young woman, age 22-ish, dressed in her high-fashion poser clothes, attempting to walk in a pair of shoes which – I kid you not – had an elevation of at least 5 inches in the front and 8-10 inches at the heel (technically speaking they were stilts). I didn’t know if she was going to catch a cab or drywall the friggin ceiling. I say attempting because she was wobbling and had her hands out like she was on a tightrope. After struggling on the nice flat sidewalk she froze at the curb, a look of terror on her face as she stared at the cobblestone street she was about to step onto. I confess that I laughed out loud and couldn’t stop watching.
I confess that the 2nd craziest thing I saw was while Kristin and I were standing in the lobby of a theater getting ready to take our seats. We were leaning on a small high top table, both of us on the same side watching people walk by. I confess that – as if on cue for our entertainment – a middle-aged man who looked like a balding Richard Lewis walked by with one hand on his belt, the other hand fully down his trousers in the front readjusting his whole situation down there. I confess that said readjustment took at least three four steps and he was still going strong as he passed. I confess that we looked at each other in disbelief and all I could think to say was, “Yeah, that just happened.”
I confess that although I love the city, there are some things I do not like about the city… for instance: leaflets, weekend subway schedules, everything is always under construction – constantly, mystery odors which occur without warning, you cannot make eye contact, all advertised specials have a catch, visible chest hair, you cannot engage the crazy people, it’s not water on the sidewalk it’s dog pee – or garbage drool, verbally aggressive pan-handlers, cab drivers don’t know the city like they used to, everybody’s working an angle, estimate how much you will spend, then double it & you’ll be close, when I can sing along with the song coming from the ipod headphones stuck in your ear while the subway car is moving… it’s too loud. Everything else about the city (nearly), I love.
I confess that my hatred of the friggin EVO has never been more intense than it was this weekend as I attempted to actually make use of the phone’s features while having the battery die shortly after 2pm every friggin day. I confess that I just used friggin in a sentence twice and yet I believe, oddly, the sentence still works.
I confess that I love Time Square. I just love it. It’s so packed, self-indulgent, saturated, satiated, loud, bright, rude, and frigin constant. I confess the over-under on how long I enjoy Time Square is 8 minutes.
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