The only time I have lived on my own was was a couple of years after I was separated. I'll admit was lonely at times. But it was also a time of healing. I look back on it with fondness. In contrast to now where living with teenagers is not lonely and hardly boring, to say the least. But I digress.
Before I get going on New York I should share the second story about women, me and dogs. I was at Pickles' place and her mutt jumped on the bed. I was in a rather compromising position and the monster licked my.... Well not really but I thought that it might. My reaction was to high tail (sic) it out of there. The next day Pickles went into retreat mode and started training the mutt to stay out of her room at night. I can just hear her, "Bad dog, biting the nice man's balls and chasing him away like that, Bad dog". It was a little shocking at the time but now it is funny.
The trip to New York was fantastic. I'm in love. With New York, not Pickles. She pissed me off a few times. First she lost my pen. I'm serious. It took her less than an hour into the trip to lose my pen. While we were going through US customs before the flight, she asked to use my pen. So I lent it to her. Then we got on the plane and I had to fill in yet another form so I ask for my pen back. She had lost it. Unfuckingbelievable. Usually I'm cool with a minor incident like this but I just thought it was careless and I took it personally. I gave her the evil eye. I'm still not laughing.
We arrived in New York on a Wednesday. Remember I'm travelling with two women. Pickles is my age roughly, a bit younger. She is nice. She is a giver. She's loving. She likes me. She massaged my feet a few times - I love massages (any part of my body actually). But she can be annoying. And I'm not in love which means that I don't really care about how I react to her annoying behaviour. I agree, this isn't too smart - I react before I think. Stupid really but that just how it is.
The second traveler is Grace. That's not her real name but that is what she is. She is a relative of a relative (my uncle Fairy, remember him?). Grace is 77 years old (born in 1931, can you believe that) and a real gem. She is the main reason that I wanted to go to New York. She is an artist (painter) and has never had much money so I offered to pay for her trip. I thought she would like to visit some art galleries and I wanted to see her reaction. She has been a spinster forever and I also wanted to let her know that someone cares about her and to bring some joy into her life. She actually does just fine on her own but, you know, sometimes it's nice to have someone do something special for you. She loved everything about New York. It was so fun to go with her. She made me laugh.
Back to Wednesday. We got to our hotel ($233 a night, not bad). Okay, I'll put a plug in for Best Western Hospitality House. It was a great place to stay: 2 bed rooms (I wasn't with Grace), kitchen, living room, 3 TVs, bathroom and continental breakfast. Then we went for a stroll to Times Square (can you see us?). That place is busy - even late at night! We took Grace back and then Pickles and I went back for more.
We ended up getting lured into the basement of some building by a guy offering us tickets for a comedy show. I thought, "What the heck?", but it was a little freaky going down into a basement. We lived and some of the comedians were funny. I love the guys that make fun of people in the audience. One black guy in the audience had a hat on and the comedian kept teasing him about being a pirate. Another guy had a Mohawk and the comedian kept referring to him as gay and joking with his date that she was going out with a gay guy. Probably not too funny for you - you had to be there. The strange thing is that when a comedian asks someone a question, they seem to reply with a real answer - how stupid is that?. I keep a very low profile at these types of things - I'm an easy target.
On Thursday we headed for The Cloisters. This was Grace's idea and it was fantastic. I was pretty excited but nervous too because it started with a bus ride to Harlem and a walk down 125 St to the subway. Luckily it was broad daylight. The Cloisters is at the northern tip of Manhattan Island which is why I was interested in going there, I had never been to that part of Manhattan before.
I should explain that I had surgery on my foot a couple weeks ago. The doctor cut a nerve (Morton's Neuroma) out of my left foot. He had a fit when I told him I was going on a walking tour of New York City. I revived him with smelling salts. He threatened me with blood clots on the plane. Apparently after surgery I was a bit woozy and I asked the nurse for a blow job in the recovery room. I can't remember if she obliged or not. Darn. So I experienced some discomfort and slowness in New York.
As mentioned, The Cloisters (every time I say that word, I can't help think of some female anatomy - silly me) was fun. Pickles started to complain after the first 45 minutes. I had arranged a work related appointment at 3:00 so I left the two ladies to navigate their way back to the hotel via Harlem. The visit with the ad agency went well except that he said it was tough getting clients to pay $150 per hour. I was stunned - this is New York! Martinis are $20 each and he can't get a client to pay a paltry $150? Ludicrous. I'm not sure we will be doing any business with them.
Pickles and Grace never made it back to the hotel. I found them drinking in Rockefeller Plaza. Grace doesn't drink but Pickles drinks like a beached whale. There is no way I can keep up to her. Makes for fun times later, however. They didn't know what they wanted to do in the evening so I made a few calls and voila, we were heading to the harbor for dinner on a cruise. Now that was some dinner. The food was great. The waiter was funny. The entertainment - singing waiters - was pretty good. The views were unforgettable. Glad you got the picture of the Statue of Liberty - the lady is impressive. We got back late.
Friday started with a visit to The Met - it was spectacular. It is a museum and it is big but it is art and not stuffed animals. I don't do stuffed animals. But art - I love art. I don't go for all art - I get tired of Renaissance portraits. I love the Impressionists and some modern art. Although some modern art is just for laughing at. I hope the artist is never around when I'm looking at contemporary art - I just ridicule it. Not all of it but lots of it. Well you know what I'm like. It didn't take Pickles very long to request a lunch break so we had hot dogs.
Now this gets interesting. Pickles can't stand spicy food. Really! She paid for 2 sausage dogs; tried one; nearly passed out and gave hers to me. It gets worse. On the Saturday we were tired so we went to a restaurant near the hotel. It served Indian food (that has to be the worst website). You would have loved it but Pickles could only eat the rice and drink the beer. I am fucking serious. Quit laughing. This is no laughing matter. She can't eat anything hotter than rice. I'm not sure I can date someone who can't eat food with a little kick. Of course there is an upside - more for me. Bring on the naans and tandori chicken.
Friday night Pickles and I went to Billy Elliot. OMG, it was sooooo good. I loved every minute. The story. The acting. The singing. And of course the dancing. I laughed. I cried. I didn't dance but I could have had there been room. God it was good. The movie trailer. The dancing. The musical. Music by Elton John, no less. This was the song that had tears rolling down my cheeks. I seem to have a little pent up sadness (and anger) from childhood.
By the time Saturday rolled around I was sick of continental breakfasts (you know I love breakfast). So I'm thinking, The Waldorf is just around the corner. "Hey, ladies what about the Waldorf for a change?" They agree so off we go. Only to lighten our wallets by $120. No alcohol. No seconds. No kidding. Luckily, Grace whipped out her Amex and paid.
Then we went to MOMA. Most of the time I was in hysterics. This is a long video of NYSE crashing. How can someone call this art? This was a huge room of junk called art. Even Bruno was there. Everyone marked their height on the wall. This is a chair. Who thinks of this stuff? My lord. However, Grace loved it and that was important. She loves modern and contemporary art but she takes it seriously and ignores my antics. Kinda why I like her.
Later, we went to a small gallery on Grace's list. She loved it. I sat on a chair and listened to her discussion with the curator. Pickles went off on her own to Pier 17 to drink beer.
On Sunday we explored Central Park. I rented a bike and pushed off the ground with my good leg. It is huge. Not my leg although it was a bit swollen - the park. We started off and after an hour or more we came to the end, or what I thought was the end. Pickles insisted that we had come full circle to the beginning - I was sure that she was totally out to lunch. But she pointed out a few land marks proving that we had not gone the full length but, in fact, only the width. I was soooo wrong and I'm the one with the outdoor recreation degree - embarrassing. But we had a super time.
For dinner we went to my cousin's condo. David is related to Grace too. David and his wife, Suzie, have two young children - adorable. Dinner was excellent. The condo is in Harlem so we had to go there one last time. We had a great time. Love it.
Monday was depressing because we had to head home. I never like coming home after a trip. Using my incredible foresight, I had arranged to meet a client from New Jersey at our departure airport, Newark, so that took a bit of the edge off.
Anyway, that was our trip. Fun.
