The morning after the Aussie debacle I had to wake up early. My cousin and her husband were in town for a short trip and I was to act as their tour guide around the city for the afternoon. I was being paid by having them bring some stuff down from Syracuse for me. I was late meeting them, as usual, and had to haul ass down 5th ave to Columbus Circle. Of course that day was exceptionally hot even by 11am and when I reached them I was sweaty and ready to collapse. I was not pleased to learn that they had taken the subway in instead of driving so they were CARRYING all my shit--a bag filled with dishes and a lamp with its base as the Eiffel Tower. Great. My cousin's husband was a doll and carried the bag but I was stuck with the lamp. We decided from the start to have fun with it. We were going to take a touristy picture every place we passed with the lamp. We started with a still life with the lamp on the rocks in Central Park and then moved onto the Plaza Hotel. We convinced the doorman to pose with us while holding the lamp then set our sights on FAO Schwartz (after a quick shot with a hotdog vendor of course). Before entering we had the weirdo dressed as a toy soldier out front pose for a shot then made our way inside. We wandered for a bit, and had roughly 5-10 people stop me and ask me where I got the lamp. Our answers included Paris, and the store next door. We finally found the Grand Piano from Big and took our place in line. We were dancing on the Piano, along with all the 5 years olds, and the lamp was coming with. There are now multiple pictures of my cousin and I jumping around on this piano, and we even purchased the professional one they take and have for sale, amusement park style. We hit up other hot spots throughout the day, including Rockefellar Center, Times Square and the Central Park Zoo. People continued to lose their shit over this lamp, with almost every other person on the street stopping to tell me they loved my lamp. Now, this is New York City. There are far stranger things people could be doing. The previous week I had seen a guy riding his bike down the street in his underwear screaming at the top of his lungs. But for some reason a lamp shaped like the Eiffel Tower made people stop in their tracks, and I still do not get why.
After my day with my cousins and the lamp I trucked my belongings back to "East Williamsburg" (and had to scold a man on the subway for touching the base of the lamp when he thought I wasn't looking) and took my nap. When I awoke it was time to start getting ready to meet Coffee. We were going out once again. He had invited me out with his friends to Greenhouse (where I had been VIP with GF my second weekend in NYC). I was tired and hesistant to go but rallied, as I always do. I met him in Soho where he informed me he had just found out that Sunday nights Greenhouse are gay nights. Not surprising since his friend happened to be, umm, gay! I had no qualms though and was pleased that no one would be bothering me. The gaggle of gays that awaited us were nice, especially Coffee's friend and his tiny little friend. There was an open bar for an hour and after a couple of those drinks I decided that yes I could dance a little bit to some Lady Gaga. A bit into the night I also noticed one of my former coworkers from that fucking coffee shop where I used to work, the one with the missing hand who had tried to ask me out. I chatted with him for a minute and we commiserated over how much the fucking coffee shop had sucked. After this Coffee and I decided that the place was getting a little too gay so we headed out to see what else the night held. We somehow settled on a bar called the Room, further into Soho. It was a wine bar/lounge and I really liked it. I instructed Coffee to order me a Malbec and trucked it to the bathroom. When I returned I joined him on the coach, accepting the fact that I was a little drunk. We chatted and the only part of it I clearly remember was him asking how I get to be so worldly when I was from Syracuse. I replied in a loud voice, while sloshing wine over my glass that I didn't know "how I got to be so classy", direct quote. I'm sure he was very impressed. We ended the night at a delicious pizza place and I made it home at around 4:30am, on what was supposed to be a low-key night. Never in New York.
The next day Yahtzee and I had tentative plans to go to the beach. When I woke up, the weather looked pretty cloudy and wasn't as warm as it was supposed to be. I could tell Yahtzee was hesitant to truck all the way out to Coney Island, but I somehow convinced him to do it, confident that it would be sunny once we arrived. After almost an hour spent on the train, we exited to discover that it was at least 10 degrees cooler than in the City with a strong wind to match. Oops. We headed to the beach anyway and lay there for almost an hour shivering before we couldn't take it anymore. It was then that Yahtzee decided to take his revenge. I hate amusment parks to begin with and unfortunately we were in the tackiest of the tacky. He decided that we weren't leaving until we had gone on the Cyclone, which is apparently the oldest roller coaster in the US and looks like a decrepit piece of shit. I wanted nothing to do with it, but after dragging him all the way out there I couldn't say no. He bought my ticket and forced us to stand and wait for the front car. I was shaking at this point, since I hate heights. We got in, and the thing creaked up an almost 90 degree incline. Looking straight down, I put my head down and saw my life flash before my eyes. It was interrupted by my face slamming into the laprest. My head was then violently thrown back and my headband flew off, never to be seen again. The second casualty of the weekend. I endured the rest of the nightmare-ish ride screaming and praying to God that I hadn't lost any teeth (I didn't). Afterwards, I felt nauseous and self-concious of my wild hair and luckily Yahtzee agreed to head back to the subway. We had plans in a few hours to go to a bar for all you can eat lobster (his idea, not mine) but I turned down his invite to shower at his place. This was before the ending of Ibanker and I figured that would be a little bit weird. I headed back to mine and promptly fell asleep. Because of this I was pretty late meeting Yahtzee and his roommate at the bar. They were almost finished eating by the time I arrived, but I tried a piece of disgusting lobster anyway and was immediately put off by the stringyness. I ordered myself some mozz sticks and a beer and chatted with them. And that's where the weekend ends and not a moment too soon. Labor Day weekend had exhausted me and it was time to call it quits. Back to the subway I went.
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