So, we hit New York City, my second visit. Hopefully it would be a lot more enjoyable without the intense heat and humidity. It is winter after all. Alas, no. It turned out to be mild, t-shirt weather again! The main problem with New York this time was that Scott finds it impossible to pass a coffee shop without buying some kind of drink! With all of that coffee surging around our systems, we should be getting a maximum of 3 hours sleep a night but we still manage to sleep until lunch time on most days! Staying at the Milford Plaza hotel near Times Square was nice for the tourist atmosphere but we missed out on the down town aspect and bars. To be honest it was quite an uneventful visit, with us just soaking up the pre Christmas buzz of the city. We did zoom down to midtown to find a couple of great bars. Slate Plus is a big spot and on our first visit it just happened to be the Maxim event. Some kind of FHM high street honeys type affair, but we just sat at the bar and watched what happened. What did happen was not very much. But the bar was nice. However, if you are planning a visit to NYC and are looking for a nice small bar, I would say that you should go to Prey on 22nd and 5th. It is small but the bouncers were good fun. Just a really nice bar.
Our other favourite was the hotel bar at Milford Plaza called Garveys. It too is really small and very relaxed. The highlight of this stay was by far the night when the mental, ego fuelled girl amused us for most of the night. We were just sitting quietly and drinking a few beers when I went to the toilet. On my return, Scott told me, under his breath, that “you will know what to do, A SEVEN AT BEST”. While this appeared cryptic, I know Scott well enough to know that he was telling me something of value but couldn’t say it openly. The reason for this became apparent shortly. On a table next to us was a group of three blokes and a girl. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was constantly brushing her hair and looking in the mirrors. And I do mean constantly. Then she saw that I was there and walked over to us. “Come on, what do you think?” she asked, “Those guys at the next table rated me as 9 out of 10, but your friend only said a 7 at best!”. It clicked so I backed up Scott’s 7 and watched her look astounded. “ I didn’t say a 7,” Scott added, “I said a 7 at best, in a dimly lit room.” She started to get very upset about this and began swearing at us! She then asked if it was because of the scar on her forehead, had that caused her to drop a few marks? “I didn’t see that before, better make it a high 5 or a low six!” Scott’s comment didn’t help her mood but she began to pose in the mirror and ask us if we had lost our f**king minds! She even started to compare herself to other women in the room while calling them fat so and so’s! Pretty soon the whole room was laughing at her as she made more and more of a fool of herself. A few of the insulted girls in the room were looking like they were going to give her a slapping when she beat them to it by hitting the barman! He threw her out and the night started to get a bit more quiet. But lots of people were talking about how Scott had upset her and wanted to congratulate him! King of the Bar! Who in their right mind would ask an entire bar to rate her out of ten? Even if she was stunning, she wouldn’t have to ask! As it was, she wasn’t very attractive and her attitude made it even worse! I have always said it…..you can’t polish a turd. Things became calm after the she devil had left and Scott and I were left to amuse ourselves with various dodgy film quotes. He had told me about the film, Talladega Nights; The Ballad Of Ricky Bobby, particularly one quote that needs to be done with a real Southern Drawl. I found a lovely looking red head with such an accent and sent her to recite it to Scott without him knowing. “Scott? I’m a gonna come at yew like a spider-monkey!” He sussed immediately that it was me but I considered it just reward for telling a girl in another bar to tell me that she recognised me from New Zealand’s finest soap opera, Shortland Street.
The room that we were in was very small with two single beds but Scotty remained true to form by spreading the entire contents of his luggage over the whole room. It began to annoy him about how tidy I was, even to the extent that he became distressed that I made my bed! Anyone that knows me will be fully aware that I am not naturally tidy so that should illustrate the extent of Scott’s filth. Although I do have to admit that I have stepped up my tidy game to hammer home his slovenly nature! Even when he lost his credit card, phone and room keys under “pant mountain” on consecutive days, he still maintained the level of Gypsy with regard to his personal effects.
It was getting close to the arrival of Lyndsey, Scott’s friend from England to arrive. I did want to meet her but I thought I should make myself scarce and leave them to it, whatever “it” might be. So I booked a last minute flight to Dublin after thinking through my options. Gooseberry for three weeks over Christmas? Zoom off alone for a while? Christmas at home after turning up completely unexpectedly? I took the third option after seeing that the flight was only £100.
The flight to Dublin was quite uneventful,(what happened to my amusing earlier flights?). From there it was a short bus ride to the train station and then a train to Portadown. A taxi from there would see me home on December 13th, completely unannounced. Not my best plan as no-one was home! So I nipped to Jason’s and surprised Cheryl instead. After an afternoon and a shower there, Margaret, Cheryl’s lovely Mum, took me round to see my Mum and sister. They were a little shocked but it didn’t take long to slip straight back into the normal family ways! Dad came home later and I just wandered into the kitchen where he was eating his tea. It was great to see them all and fab to surprise them in such a way! It didn’t take long to have the first family argument though. Mum discovered that I wee in the bath and wasn’t best pleased. “Dan, it is dirty and disgusting.” I responded apologetically, “Ok, ok, I won’t do it again. Just leave the water in when you get out and I will get in after you!”. Sorry about that. Just trying out a little joke. She wasn’t in the bath at the time.
While at home for Christmas I had lots of fun although there wasn’t that much to do in the local area. Paula and Gail (Gale?), Cheryl’s sisters helped me out by getting me drunk on many occasions, including a couple where Paula and I could only see out of one eye by closing time! I can’t believe it but Christmas Eve is not a big drinking and partying night in Northern Ireland! In England it is a great night. If Saturday night is the big night out in England, then New Years Eve is the king of nights out, with Christmas Eve as the pretender to the throne. Not over there! But Christmas day made up for it when I got to see Josh, Ben, Jorja and Max open up their presents! It was fab and so was the dinner that Cheryl and Mum had slaved over! MMmmmmmm
While over in Northern Ireland I went to the Empire Comedy club in Belfast with a friend called Kathleen. It is a music venue too, but must be a terrifying experience for the comedians. It is a beautiful building and a great place, but if you are not from Ireland…. The crowd seem hostile! A Glaswegian fellah went on and the audience either talked right through his act or heckled him over the smallest of things. They eventually resorted to shouting obscenities! Poor bloke! He wasn’t that bad! I think I shall avoid there for a long while yet! The host on the other hand, was fantastic. Colin Murray I think his name was and he was brilliant. Definitely one of the best live comedians I have seen. He appears on a show in Northern Ireland but I can’t remember what it is called. So it was a great night with too much Guinness again. Thanks for that Kathleen.
So, with Christmas over with, and plenty of drinks with everyone, I thought about New Years Eve. Seeing as this is my opportunity to be anywhere I fancy, I thought, “why not go to Times Square for New Years?” I contacted Scott and Lyndsey and confirmed that they would be back in the Big Apple, then booked my flight. Not quite so cheap to return! And when Dad dropped me off at the airport it got worse! They wouldn’t let me fly unless I had a return ticket. As I am not sure exactly where I am going after New York, I couldn’t book the ticket! So I now own a ticket to Belfast on the 30th of March, from New York, that I will never use! Cheers Uncle Sam! It is to prove that I intend to leave! If I was an immigrant or a terrorist then that return ticket policy would stop me from sneaking in! It got even worse! As I tried to take my hand luggage and laptop through to the departure gate, some jobsworth stopped me. Although I have been all around the World with laptop AND tiny bag, the Belfast man MADE me stuff my laptop into the other bag. It didn’t fit and things were falling out all over the place. Once through the security I asked if I could return my bags to their normal state and there was no problem. How stupid? I had to unpack everything from my laptop bag and stuff it unceremoniously into a bag that cannot fit it all in so that I can walk 20 yards and then be able to repack them in their intended states?
Then…..THEN……I landed at Newark to be taken off into a booth. I was fearing the marigold but they didn’t fancy plunging those depths. Must have read the bowel check updates. Notice that I have stopped them? They can be reinstated if you like. The Customs people at Newark were concerned that I have been in and out of the country a few times and wanted to grill me about whether I have been working here! So, be wary…if you visit USA more than once in a year, they will consider you to be on the run and crossing the border to work illegally and avoid the tax man. Seems a bit over the top!
I think that I will leave the third instalment of New York until the next update.
Our other favourite was the hotel bar at Milford Plaza called Garveys. It too is really small and very relaxed. The highlight of this stay was by far the night when the mental, ego fuelled girl amused us for most of the night. We were just sitting quietly and drinking a few beers when I went to the toilet. On my return, Scott told me, under his breath, that “you will know what to do, A SEVEN AT BEST”. While this appeared cryptic, I know Scott well enough to know that he was telling me something of value but couldn’t say it openly. The reason for this became apparent shortly. On a table next to us was a group of three blokes and a girl. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was constantly brushing her hair and looking in the mirrors. And I do mean constantly. Then she saw that I was there and walked over to us. “Come on, what do you think?” she asked, “Those guys at the next table rated me as 9 out of 10, but your friend only said a 7 at best!”. It clicked so I backed up Scott’s 7 and watched her look astounded. “ I didn’t say a 7,” Scott added, “I said a 7 at best, in a dimly lit room.” She started to get very upset about this and began swearing at us! She then asked if it was because of the scar on her forehead, had that caused her to drop a few marks? “I didn’t see that before, better make it a high 5 or a low six!” Scott’s comment didn’t help her mood but she began to pose in the mirror and ask us if we had lost our f**king minds! She even started to compare herself to other women in the room while calling them fat so and so’s! Pretty soon the whole room was laughing at her as she made more and more of a fool of herself. A few of the insulted girls in the room were looking like they were going to give her a slapping when she beat them to it by hitting the barman! He threw her out and the night started to get a bit more quiet. But lots of people were talking about how Scott had upset her and wanted to congratulate him! King of the Bar! Who in their right mind would ask an entire bar to rate her out of ten? Even if she was stunning, she wouldn’t have to ask! As it was, she wasn’t very attractive and her attitude made it even worse! I have always said it…..you can’t polish a turd. Things became calm after the she devil had left and Scott and I were left to amuse ourselves with various dodgy film quotes. He had told me about the film, Talladega Nights; The Ballad Of Ricky Bobby, particularly one quote that needs to be done with a real Southern Drawl. I found a lovely looking red head with such an accent and sent her to recite it to Scott without him knowing. “Scott? I’m a gonna come at yew like a spider-monkey!” He sussed immediately that it was me but I considered it just reward for telling a girl in another bar to tell me that she recognised me from New Zealand’s finest soap opera, Shortland Street.
The room that we were in was very small with two single beds but Scotty remained true to form by spreading the entire contents of his luggage over the whole room. It began to annoy him about how tidy I was, even to the extent that he became distressed that I made my bed! Anyone that knows me will be fully aware that I am not naturally tidy so that should illustrate the extent of Scott’s filth. Although I do have to admit that I have stepped up my tidy game to hammer home his slovenly nature! Even when he lost his credit card, phone and room keys under “pant mountain” on consecutive days, he still maintained the level of Gypsy with regard to his personal effects.
It was getting close to the arrival of Lyndsey, Scott’s friend from England to arrive. I did want to meet her but I thought I should make myself scarce and leave them to it, whatever “it” might be. So I booked a last minute flight to Dublin after thinking through my options. Gooseberry for three weeks over Christmas? Zoom off alone for a while? Christmas at home after turning up completely unexpectedly? I took the third option after seeing that the flight was only £100.
The flight to Dublin was quite uneventful,(what happened to my amusing earlier flights?). From there it was a short bus ride to the train station and then a train to Portadown. A taxi from there would see me home on December 13th, completely unannounced. Not my best plan as no-one was home! So I nipped to Jason’s and surprised Cheryl instead. After an afternoon and a shower there, Margaret, Cheryl’s lovely Mum, took me round to see my Mum and sister. They were a little shocked but it didn’t take long to slip straight back into the normal family ways! Dad came home later and I just wandered into the kitchen where he was eating his tea. It was great to see them all and fab to surprise them in such a way! It didn’t take long to have the first family argument though. Mum discovered that I wee in the bath and wasn’t best pleased. “Dan, it is dirty and disgusting.” I responded apologetically, “Ok, ok, I won’t do it again. Just leave the water in when you get out and I will get in after you!”. Sorry about that. Just trying out a little joke. She wasn’t in the bath at the time.
While at home for Christmas I had lots of fun although there wasn’t that much to do in the local area. Paula and Gail (Gale?), Cheryl’s sisters helped me out by getting me drunk on many occasions, including a couple where Paula and I could only see out of one eye by closing time! I can’t believe it but Christmas Eve is not a big drinking and partying night in Northern Ireland! In England it is a great night. If Saturday night is the big night out in England, then New Years Eve is the king of nights out, with Christmas Eve as the pretender to the throne. Not over there! But Christmas day made up for it when I got to see Josh, Ben, Jorja and Max open up their presents! It was fab and so was the dinner that Cheryl and Mum had slaved over! MMmmmmmm
While over in Northern Ireland I went to the Empire Comedy club in Belfast with a friend called Kathleen. It is a music venue too, but must be a terrifying experience for the comedians. It is a beautiful building and a great place, but if you are not from Ireland…. The crowd seem hostile! A Glaswegian fellah went on and the audience either talked right through his act or heckled him over the smallest of things. They eventually resorted to shouting obscenities! Poor bloke! He wasn’t that bad! I think I shall avoid there for a long while yet! The host on the other hand, was fantastic. Colin Murray I think his name was and he was brilliant. Definitely one of the best live comedians I have seen. He appears on a show in Northern Ireland but I can’t remember what it is called. So it was a great night with too much Guinness again. Thanks for that Kathleen.
So, with Christmas over with, and plenty of drinks with everyone, I thought about New Years Eve. Seeing as this is my opportunity to be anywhere I fancy, I thought, “why not go to Times Square for New Years?” I contacted Scott and Lyndsey and confirmed that they would be back in the Big Apple, then booked my flight. Not quite so cheap to return! And when Dad dropped me off at the airport it got worse! They wouldn’t let me fly unless I had a return ticket. As I am not sure exactly where I am going after New York, I couldn’t book the ticket! So I now own a ticket to Belfast on the 30th of March, from New York, that I will never use! Cheers Uncle Sam! It is to prove that I intend to leave! If I was an immigrant or a terrorist then that return ticket policy would stop me from sneaking in! It got even worse! As I tried to take my hand luggage and laptop through to the departure gate, some jobsworth stopped me. Although I have been all around the World with laptop AND tiny bag, the Belfast man MADE me stuff my laptop into the other bag. It didn’t fit and things were falling out all over the place. Once through the security I asked if I could return my bags to their normal state and there was no problem. How stupid? I had to unpack everything from my laptop bag and stuff it unceremoniously into a bag that cannot fit it all in so that I can walk 20 yards and then be able to repack them in their intended states?
Then…..THEN……I landed at Newark to be taken off into a booth. I was fearing the marigold but they didn’t fancy plunging those depths. Must have read the bowel check updates. Notice that I have stopped them? They can be reinstated if you like. The Customs people at Newark were concerned that I have been in and out of the country a few times and wanted to grill me about whether I have been working here! So, be wary…if you visit USA more than once in a year, they will consider you to be on the run and crossing the border to work illegally and avoid the tax man. Seems a bit over the top!
I think that I will leave the third instalment of New York until the next update.
posted by International Man of Apathy @ 7:49 PM
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