9/27/07
My trip began at 4:30am on Thursday morning. I called Jay for the fourth time to be sure he was awake, and when that didn't settle my worries and anticipation, I went outside and rang his doorbell. He then called me back with a sleepy "hey..be right down." He drove me to the airport, where I went through security checkpoints for the next hour. I then had about ten minutes to sit at the gate and wait to board the plane. It was still dark out, so I could not see the plane I would be flying on through the reflection of the fluorescent lights that obnoxiously carpeted the ceiling. When boarding was announced, I was third out the door.
As I walked down some steps, I realized that this would be my first flight where I would have to actually walk out onto the tarmac in order to board. I liked this, and for some reason this comforted me. As I climbed the steps, I looked down at my boarding pass and saw that my seat was 1B. 'Front Row' is all that went through my head as I turned the corner. I was in that seat that everyone bumps into as they first get on the plane, you know, just as you turn the corner where the steward stands smiling, no matter what time of day it is.
I was wearing my new corduroy suit jacket, sitting in my seat, when a beautiful woman, mid 30's, wearing a country dress and boots turned the corner, looked at me, and said "hey" in a southern accent. "I'll be sittin' next to ya today." I got up and let her get to her window seat. When the plane had boarded, the stewardess went over the safety announcements, then pulled her seat out of the wall. She sat directly in front of me, facing me. This was very awkward.
I turned on my Ipod and listened to some Midlake, and looked over at the woman sitting next to me, and found her reading "Communication, The Foundation of a Working Relationship" and laughed out loud, even louder when I saw she had a pad and paper and was taking notes. She turned to me, and I said sorry, but she could tell I was not serious. She smiled, and we talked for most of the flight about nonsense, nothing in particular. After we landed, she was first off the plane, I was second. On the third step down off the plane, she turned to me and said "do it." Without any hesitation, I looked out over La Guardia Airport as the sun was coming up, raised both of my arms in the air with a peace sign in each hand. She laughed, turned and walked toward the terminal. I followed, as did the other passengers on the plane, and we all went our separate ways.
As I left the terminal, and got a chance to smell that "only in NY" smell that I grew up with. Garbage mixed with salt water, Chinese food, and car exhaust. I spoke to my parents, who informed me that they were still fifteen minutes away from picking me up, as traffic was terrible. They arrived soon, and we caught up on the ride back to their house in Wantagh. My father made me an omelet for breakfast, which was very good, then I took an hour nap.
I woke up at 10:30, hearing the sounds of Al Roker and the rest of NBC's morning news, which is just a bunch of blabbering women. Al was with some British guy who wanted to donate $1 Billion to creating new jobs for something. I looked up to see one of the newswomen whorishly walk over and kiss this man and say "$1 Billion deserves a kiss from me!" I hate shitty television. I got dressed, went downstairs, and asked if my parents were ready to go. I had asked them if they wanted to go to Manhattan with me one of the days I was around, so my dad took the day off.
We walked to our local branch of the Long Island Rail Road, just made the train, and were off to NYC. They sat together and I sat facing them a few rows away. As the train continued toward Penn Station, it grew more crowded until people were standing near the doors. As we arrived, we exited up to street level after watching my dad try to figure out which subway to take, and although I knew, I said, let's go get a cab, I'll pay.
I lit a cigarette outside of Madison Square Garden, and when finished, I hailed a cab, one of the new minivan cabs, and we were off, heading north toward Central Park. At this point my parents began commenting on everything that was out of the ordinary to them, which was EVERYTHING! A girl with piercings and striped clothes walking through traffic, a cab backing into another cab, "a lot of Asians, are we in Chinatown?" and so on. We arrived at Central Park West and 72nd street, got out of the cab, and walked into the park. I felt more comfortable here than in the cab, as we were greeted with the round mosaic, which in the center reads "Imagine." We walked passed this, and continued into the park.
We stopped at the fountain and watched the people row their boats backwards in the pond. I took some photos of the architecture around the area, and watched my dad sit on the ground to take a picture of a couple in front of the fountain. We got our image snapped as well, in the same location, by the same couple. We then continued into an underpass, with columns, tile ceilings and walls, and musicians playing Sting songs, one on guitar, the other on violin. The three of us walked for a while, just enjoying the scenery and history, up through The Ramble, to a nice view of The Great Lawn.
We were getting tired of walking now, and suggested we get some food. We took the subway up to 110th street and walked a few blocks over to Broadway, where we found "Tom's Restaurant"you know, the diner featured on Seinfeld.
My mom loves crap like that. We ate, and relaxed, and took the subway back to midtown. We visited the Library, and Grand Central Terminal. We passed a soup shop and my mom said "Stop! I need to get your picture in front of thisIt's the original Soup Nazi!" After this it was time for a drink.
I was meeting a good friend at around 6pm, so I asked if they wanted to get some drinks near her place of business. They agreed, both happy to get off of their feet for a while, and so we walked to 31st and Park Ave. My dad spotted the local hole in the wall, and we walked in and began to drink. This loosened us up a bit, and I got my father to admit he smoked marijuana when he was young, which he never would before. Then my mom said that she used to wash my pipe, although I can't remember ever having a pipe in that house.I guess that's what weed does to you. I laughed and waited in anticipation for Natalie to show.
I remember my mother talking to me as I saw Natalie walk through the door, and I just stood up from the table as Nat ran toward me with her arms open wide. We embraced for the first time in over three years, I gave her a kiss, and I recall my mother saying "awwww." Nat then gave my parents big hugs, and we sat down, and ordered more drinks. She said "I have something for you" and gave me a book wrapped in paper and what looked like bakery string. "Dere Mable: Love Letters of a Rookie" by L. Streeter. I had seen this book once before, but I could not recall where. As I began looking through it, I remembered that the letters in this book were written by a man at war, that could not spell or phrase for the life of him. I gave Nat another big hug and kiss, and we all caught up some more.
After a few more drinks, my parents said their goodbyes, and Nat and I proceeded aimlessly downtown. We walked hand in hand, through crowds of people, passed taxi cabs and spoke of getting some appetizers. We stumbled across a modern and upscale looking place on the corner of East 4th Street. It was called B Bar and when we finally found the entrance, I knew we would leave with some great story to tell.
The hostess asked us where we wanted to sit, and I said outside, smoking section (yes they still have those). We walked through the bar area, one of those bars with glowing orange, purple and green illuminating an excessive amount of martini glasses. We were sat at a small table outside with a candle in the middle, and Christmas style lights hanging overhead. There were lots of other people there at this time, all enjoying this garden setting in the middle of the city. We ordered drinks, and then some food. We kept talking and looking into each other's eyes in a way we never have before. When our food came, it was not what we had expected. Her plate had a quesadilla on it, which took up about 1/4 of the plate, and my shrimp was on a couple of tortilla chips and decorated with some kind of swanky maroon shit. We laughed, ate, and drank.
As we each smoked a cigarette, we shared my Ipod, still gazing at each other, when the waitress came over and said we were very cute together, and I ordered more drinks. I also asked where the bathroom was, and after it was pointed out, I said, "I'll be right back darling" and walked off, at which point Nat took control of the Ipod. As I returned, she handed me one earpiece, and I heard Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You." Before sitting, I offered my hand to her, she took it and stood, and we slow danced, each hearing a song that nobody else could. We danced by candle light until the song was over, we kissed and sat back down. I then looked around and saw people behind Natalie, smiling at us and silent, as if they have never seen such an act. I smiled, as did Nat, and we chatted about things that we missed in each other's lives.
We got the check and headed off into the lights and noise once again. We walked, holding hands toward Washington Square Park, although we made some wrong turns, and ended up passing the same comedy club promoter twice. The first time, he said "You two wanna laugh?" to which I replied something along the lines of "Why?, I'm fucking hilarious!" We circled the block, and the next time he said "Do you want to see a comedian tonight for half price?" to which I then casually said "I'm still fucking funny!" Natalie laughed, and the guy gave me a look and said to her "I hope you laugh tonight." She replied "Oh, I will!" and we continued toward the park. We found a bench amongst the rest of the night people that were hanging out and laughing.
We sat and listened to music, kissed, and embraced. As we sat, I remember thinking that it was the most comfortable I have been with a girl in a while, especially because I hadn't seen her in at least 3 years. She shared those same feelings with me. We each chose songs that we believed would fit the mood best, and as Ray LaMontagne sang "Let fall the flowers from your hair and kiss me with that country mouth so plain" I felt a kiss on my cheek as my eyes were closed. A few songs later, we kissed again, and decided it was getting late, seeing as how she would be working in the morning, and had a 2 hour train ride ahead of her, followed by another in the morning. We got up and walked out of the park, passed a cop car and a girl in handcuffs, saying repeatedly,
"I didn't mean to."
We took the subway uptown back to Penn Station, during which I got some great photos. We then sat on the steps of Madison Square Garden, waiting for her train to board, leaning up on each other, staring at the neon advertisements of 7th Avenue and listening to music. She got Ice Cream and I got one of those 24oz Sam Adams that seem to taste better out of the ice bucket in Penn Station than anywhere else. She said it was time, and I walked her down toward track 19, and she turned, we hugged and kissed, and said goodnight.
I was on such a high from adrenaline and booze, that I figured I would get another 24oz Sam Adams from the same guy, who didn't recognize me even though I had been there only 15 minutes earlier. I listened to my Ipod - blasting the White Album and rocking back and forth, drumming on my knees as I sat on the floor of Penn Station leaning on a column. Nobody even glanced at me. I thought to myself "I love this place!" My train boarded at 12:39am and I sat for 45 minutes, bobbing my head to the music, until I heard "Wantagh." I got up, walked out into the quiet of 1:30 on Long Island, which isn't all that bad at night. A short 15 minute walk, and I was home, in pain from walking all day. I passed out.
9/28/07
The alarm clock on my phone rang at 10:30AM on Friday morning. I got up after hitting the snooze twice, which is only 5 minutes on cell phones for some reason. I showered and got dressed, and my mother asked if I needed a ride to the train station. I said sure, and she dropped me off about 30 seconds before my train arrived. I didn't have time to purchase a ticket before boarding, so I had to pay an extra $2 when tickets were collected. This didn't bother me though, I was just happy to be heading to Manhattan again.
As I arrived at Penn Station, I walked right to 31st street and headed east. I sent a quick text message while walking, and got a response fast. 'meet me on the corner of 31st & park. 15 minutes.' It was lunch time for Natalie, and we had decided the night before that we would meet and get some food. I arrived on the corner early, and lit a cigarette. A guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and one arm, approached me and asked if I had a lighter. I said yes, and held it up to his cigarette. He said he would do it, so he put his bag down, and took hold of my lighter with his one arm. He lit his smoke, and handed it back to me and said "cheers."
I finished my cigarette, and took out a stick of gum. I wasn't sure exactly where Nat worked, so I was scanning all 4 corners, looking for her, which is more difficult than you would think. I saw her wave from the southwest corner, and she smiled as she waited for cabs to pass so she could cross. We hugged, shared a kiss, and after a quick trip to the bank, walked down 31st street to a sushi joint called "Ten Sushi." We sat, ordered, and discussed the events of the past night. We laughed about some situations, and Nat told me that she told her friend Liz about dancing at B Bar, to which Liz remarked "how romantic!" I laughed, and our food arrived. Natalie added some wasabi and soy sauce together until it was to her liking. I snapped a few more photos of her, while she laughed.
As we finished eating, we discussed the next time we would meet, which would be decided later. Nat was in the middle of moving from Smithtown, which is a good 2 hour train ride from Manhattan, to Astoria, which is just across the East River. I knew that her mind was on that, and so I decided that I would wait and see how her move was going, and then ask her if I could see her again. I walked her back to the corner I met her on, we kissed and said our goodbyes once again.
From here, I jumped right into the subway and headed downtown. Part of my plan for the weekend was to walk around and be "touristy." I got off the train at Spring Street. There is not much vehicle traffic in this area, but lots of people and sidewalk vendors. I spent a good 2 hours walking around this area, checking out local shops filled with trinkets and other odd gifts that one could only find in a melting pot like New York.
I took a walk toward Chinatown to see if I could find a t-shirt for the guy I work with. He requested a 'blue shirt with guns on it and Chinese writing' and gave me an address. Unfortunately when I found the address, there was no gun shop, just an electrical supply store.
I continued walking until I got back to Spring Street and stepped into the local corner pub. The small bar was filled with what seemed to be regulars. The barkeep asked me what I would like, and I chose my drink of choice, a tall Jameson and Ginger Ale. She smiled and said, 'six dollars.' I took my drink to a window seat, which involved an open-air wall made of bars, spread six inches apart, a bench made of some solid wood at a ninety degree angle, and a wobbly table that looked like a raw slab of tree. I took my time drinking, and relaxed, grateful to be off of my feet for a while. There was a park across the street, with a group of old men playing chess. A cool breeze came through the bars and I didn't want to leave, until a group of three young girls came and sat down at the table next to me, and began to complain about everything wrong with their relationships.
I packed up and headed back to the subway. This time getting off at Wall Street. If you have never been down to Wall Street, it is a very intimidating place. The buildings are so tall and wide that no sunlight gets through for most of the day. There were tons of Asian tourists walking around and asking questions to anyone who looked like they knew where they were. This is when I turned my Ipod on and walked down to South Street/Seaport area. I sat at the southern tip of Manhattan in the sunlight, snapping photos of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty.
About every two minutes another helicopter would land on the floating helipads. I walked west around the tip of the island, and then north along Battery Park. It was very nice out, but I was getting tired of walking. I decided to just head north. There were many elevated temporary walkways, and I was tired and getting confused. After walking the length of a makeshift tunnel that had 'post no bills' written on every board, I walked up some stairs and saw a large group of people gathered and looking off to my right. As I approached the window, I realized where I was, and stopped to take it all in. You never really appreciate how big those towers were until you see the giant pit that now sits in their place. This was the closest I had been since being on the beach with my friends in 2001 and watching each tower fall, right in front of our eyes. I kept walking north, and eventually got back on the subway and got off at Union Square for two slices of pizza.
I had forgotten that in New York, one slice is about the same size as a full medium pizza in Rochester, and so I filled up fast. It was around six o'clock and I decided to head back to Penn Station, as I was meeting my friend Courtney at around eight.
As I arrived at Penn, I hustled up to street level and saw that it was raining..hard. There were Asian people running through the streets with newspapers over their heads which reminded me of those Godzilla movies. As the rain subsided, I decided that I would relax for a bit before the night began. I took up camp leaning on the side of Madison Square Garden on 8th Ave, facing the Post Office.
The sun was going down, and I was enjoying the peaceful skies. The clouds actually cleared fast, and the buildings across the street became silhouettes.
I enjoyed this spot for about a half hour, watching the hockey fans walk into MSG for the Rangers vs. Islanders match up. I was smoking a cigarette, and an old Russian woman asked me for one. She offered me money, and I said 'no, just take it.' She said that she would tell me my fortune instead. She looked into my eyes and said that I would find true love soon, and that I should stop smoking. I lit her cigarette, we thanked each other, and she went on her way.
At this point, I walked over to the bar across from MSG on 31st, I think it's called Cafe 31, but anyway, I took a seat in front of a flat screen tv, and a Russian barkeep approached me. She asked what I wanted, and I wasn't sure, so I just said 'Bud Light' knowing that they wouldn't have Blue. I got my beer and called Courtney, informing her of my new location. She said she would be there in five minutes. I got another beer, and soon enough, she walked in.
We went to high school together and had not seen each other in at least six years. We hugged, she sat down and I ordered her a drink. The next hour was spent sharing stories of the past few years, and what we wanted to do with our futures. I told her I thought that she always seemed to me to have her head on straight, but she told me otherwise, which I think anyone would do.
Courtney told me of living by herself in a large four bedroom house on eastern Long Island, in a town that shuts down for the winter, so she was the only one around, and she had to move back home for her sanity after a couple of months. I think I would enjoy that sort of solitude, maybe for a little while. We decided that we would see the new musical film featuring all Beatles music called "Across The Universe."
Courtney always had a great taste in music. It was playing in a theater near Union Square, so we walked, chatting along the way. We arrived just as one theater sold out, so we bought tickets to the 10:30 show. The time that needed to be killed before the show was spent with my Ipod, showing her the newest creations from her favorite bands. Courtney told me that she never gets time to listen to music anymore because of her work schedule, so she was pleased to hear some new Wilco, and some of the George/Giles Martin creation: The Beatles "Love."
As the theater emptied from the previous showing, and cleaning crews went to work, Courtney and I snuck in and took the best seats in the house, right in the middle of the stadium seating. It was an odd feeling, being the only people in a movie theater, with a cleaning crew. Eventually, the place filled, and after 7 previews of movies I will never see, "Across The Universe" began.
My Review: "Across The Universe":
For a musical, it was pretty good, although it was too long. There were parts that I loved and parts that I hated. I thoroughly enjoyed the "Benefit For Mr. Kite!" scene and all of the acid trip scenes. The problem was that there was not a solid storyline, and it jumped around too much, but there were moments of straight ridiculousness that made no sense, and were not explained, so I loved them. That is all.
After the extremely long movie, it was already 1AM, and we were beat. Courtney decided that she would get a cab back to Hoboken, and I would hang around the city for a bit before heading home. We said our goodbyes, I hailed her a cab, and she was off. I turned around and walked right into Union Square, where there was a fire dancing chick.
A large crowd had gathered around her and was hooting and hollering, clapping and stomping their feet, at 1:30AM. A group of kids were skateboarding, weaving in and out of the crowd. I stayed for a good 20 minutes and took some photos, enjoying a scene that could only be accepted in NYC at this time of night.
My legs were now in pain, and I hailed a cab. The cab took me to Penn Station, and as I walked underground, I noticed that my train was leaving in three minutes, and the next one wasn't until 4:36AM, so I ran to track 21, and boarded about 30 seconds before the doors closed. There was nowhere to sit, and there were loud drunks everywhere. I always hated the train at this time. I attempted to use my Ipod to drown out some noise, but the battery died. I was in hell! A very angry and frustrating 45 minutes later I got off the train, just to hear "Zuke!?"
I turned very slowly just to see my childhood next door neighbor standing there, and thoughtJesus Christ Kill ME! He began asking questions about every aspect of my life, and offered me a ride home, which I took, only because I could not take another fifteen minutes on my feet. I got out of his car, said thanks, and walked into the house, and passed out!
9/29/07
On Friday night, I decided that Saturday would be a good day to catch up on some sleep, although I ended up waking up right around eleven anyway. I lounged around for a while and checked my e-mail. My mother asked if there was anything that I wanted to do before going to Manhattan. She suggested a giant garage sale that happens once a year at a train museum. I said okay, although I was thinking that I would see someone that I didn't want to, and end up frustrated and angry for the rest of the day.
We arrived and found a place to park, and walked in through the gate. Immediately I began to get pissed off at all of the gossiping Long Island housewives with their awful accents.
"Didja hea about Caal and Vicki? Couja believe that?" I shuttered in disgust. There was some cool crap there, but most was just crap. I made my way around as fast as possible, while my mother took her time and purchased some of the cool crap. I did stumble on a couple of pins that I ended up buying. One, a John Lennon "Give Peace A Chance" and the other was a "Aunt Jemima Pancake Club Member."
I quickly made my way through the gates again, and stood next to the crossing guard, smoking a cigarette and waiting for my mother to finish shopping. As she came out, she said,
"Did you see that old guy almost die?" I said no, but apparently an ancient member of our society tripped on a tree stump and landed on his head, and still hadn't gotten up. We left, and headed back to the house. I remembered that my Ipod was dead, and I had brought my car charger with me, so I plugged it into the car that for some reason just sits in my parents driveway, and never moves.
We then went to Jones Beach, another childhood hangout of mine. We walked on the boardwalk, and she told me that Donald Trump was building a giant restaurant where the old boardwalk restaurant had been when I was growing up. This angered me until I thought; "who cares."
I took some photos of things that I had always wanted, but never got the chance to. I didn't set foot on the sand, but the ocean looked nice at that time of day. We got back in the car and left for home, listening to The Beatles "Revolver" on the way. We arrived and my mother started cooking dinner: 1 large steak, some sort of corn dish that I always liked, and a ton of clams. All of the food was very good, but I really enjoyed the clams, as I hadn't eaten them in quite some time. We ate outside when my father returned from work. I felt kind of bad, only getting to see him for a few hours on Thursday, and then for the twenty minutes of eating, before he drove me to the local 7-11 next to the train station. He offered to drive me right to the station, but I told him that I needed cigarettes because I wasn't going to pay $8 a pack in Manhattan. He left, I got my pack and walked over to the station.
I was buying my ticket from the machine, when a guy approached me and said,
"Hey, going to Penn?" I said yes and he handed me his monthly pass, which would expire the next day, and was good for any train ride I wanted. "No charge, because I like your jacket and you look like a good guy." I said thanks, three times, and he said "be safe." I thanked him one more time and thought that if I didn't stop for those cigarettes, those train rides would have cost me $20. It's weird how things work out sometimes. I lit one of my new cigarettes on the platform, and by the time I was down to my last drag, the train was arriving.
I tossed my butt onto the tracks and watched the train run it over. As I boarded, I noticed that it seemed empty. I took a seat, and watched a Mexican looking guy walk into the bathroom, which was to my left. A few minutes later, he came out looking stoned out of his mind. He walked up to a girl sitting two seats in front of me, and asked her about a train ticket he had, although he was not making sense, and speaking very broken English. The girl told him to leave her alone, and he did, and asked the girl in front of her the same thing, but leaning way too close for her comfort. She said in a loud voice,
"Please leave me alone, I don't understand you!" The Spaniard looked confused, and turned to the first girl again, so she said something along the same lines. At this point I stood up, grabbed his arm, and walked him to the back of the car, sat him down and said,
"you sit, no talk." He held up his ticket and said,
"Yamaka?" I knew what he was asking them, and said,
"Yes this train does go to Jamaica." Jamaica was only two stops up, so I left him and walked back to my seat, passing the girls on the way, who both graciously thanked me. I spent the rest of the ride listening to Midlake's "Bamnan and Slivercork" album.
When I got to Penn, I walked up to street level and realized that summer was over. It was already dark out and it was only 7:30. I like autumn and winter, so I wasn't bothered by this. I smoked a cigarette, and began walking downtown.
I stayed on seventh avenue for a few blocks and thought of taking the subway. The 1 would have been perfect, but the downtown station was closed, so I kept walking. At the next station a few blocks down, I tried again, but saw that the downtown was closed there too. I then just walked, taking my time, enjoying all of the unique people of The Village. As I got to Bleeker Street, I hung a left and then another onto Cornelia Street.
My plan was to catch my friend Malcolm playing with Respect Sextet, in an intimate jazz club setting. The guy with tickets asked me if I had a reservation. He was wearing a headband with a sign on top that said "tickets" and spoke with an eastern European accent. I told him I did not, and he said I would have to wait. I smoked a cigarette. Then he came up to me and said "okea, you can buy a ticket now." I asked him when the group I was there to see was playing, and he said 10:30. "Dammit!" I remember thinking, knowing that I would be heading to Astoria by then.
I bought a ticket for the nine o'clock show, even though I would not be seeing what I wanted. This was still alright, because I enjoy seeing musicians in small venues anyway. As I walked downstairs, I hung a right and handed my ticket to the bartender, who told me there were three seats left, next to the stage. I ordered a Jameson and Ginger Ale, and paid $8 for it. Looking for my seat, I realized that this place was the size of a subway car, with a candle on every table, and no room to walk. I held up my backpack, and in the other hand, my drink, and stumbled toward the stage. When I found my seat, the musicians took stage, and played some really wonderful trumpet fronted jazz.
The piano player and drummer were fantastic. After two ten minute songs, I decided that I'd had enough, as my drink was empty, and I wasn't about to spend another $8 on more. I didn't want to be late to Astoria either. I left and walked around for a bit, seeing more of the city I love. A large group of black homosexuals passed, and all of them can only be described as being dressed as "Lamar" from Revenge of the Nerds. The bars were packed, and I had to walk in the street to avoid the crowded sidewalks and lines outside of them. I heard one girl say,
"I'm down to my last $20, lets get fucked up." I think the same way, so I appreciated that. How is saving that money going to make a difference anyway?
I jumped down into the subway station, feeling excited. I took the 1 up to Penn Station, got up to street level, and walked east down 32nd street toward the N. I called Natalie, and as she answered I realized my phone was about to die. I panicked and immediately asked how to get to her place, as she had just moved in that day. She quickly gave me directions, which included getting on the N.
I hung up and turned my phone off to save juice. As I boarded the subway, I turned on the shuffle on my Ipod, feeling sick of listening to the same things. The ride was not too long, and I got off of the train in Queens. I took the route that Natalie had described, and passed by the Beer Garden, where there was quite obviously a huge celebration happening.
A few more blocks, and I arrived outside of her new apartment. I was sweating from the walk, as it weather was still very muggy. I turned my phone back on and called upstairs, and Nat said she would be right down. She greeted me at the door, gave me a hug and said,
"Come on!" I followed up the marble steps to the third floor. Inside her apartment, her roommate, and others were sitting drinking beers after a long day of moving, and watching South Park. This was comforting, and it felt good to be there on my last night. I drank a few beers, and asked Natalie where her fire escape was. She replied,
"Me first!" wanting to be the first one to sit outside of her bedroom that overlooks the Tri-Borough bridge and Queens. I followed her out, and lit a cigarette. She asked me for a drag, and I handed it to her. I told her that I thought the place was great, and I meant it. It is a very cool location.
Her friend Andre joined us, and we all looked out over the rooftops together. Andre shouted,
"Hello Astoria!" and a woman walking on the street looked up, then picked up her pace a bit. We laughed. We went back inside, and sat around drinking, talking and laughing for the next hour.
As the friends left, I asked Natalie if I should stay or leave, and knowing she was tired from moving, I thought of going anyway. She said it was up to me, although I knew that she wanted some sleep. I told her I would take off, and she smiled and said thanks, and explained how tired she was. Before leaving, I played some Seen A Cow Ski for her on guitar, while she sat smiling and laughing. I packed up, put my corduroy jacket back on, and she walked me down the marble toward the door. We stopped, and kissed and hugged for a while, and then said our last goodbyes.
The door closed and I was on my way. That is, until I remembered that my cell phone was charging in her apartment! I went back into the entryway and tried to think of what apartment was hers. Third floor.A or B? I buzzed A and luckily got Natalie saying,
"Hello?"
I explained that I forgot my phone, and she asked where I left it. I told her, and she brought it down, which lead to that second, and always shorter hug and kiss, and I was on my way. As I walked back to the subway, I hit shuffle on my Ipod once again, and began thinking of what was to come between Natalie and I. We had always been such great friends, and this was new to both of us.
As I walked up to the subway platform, I noticed a bench that looked out over Grand Central Parkway and the Tri-Borough Bridge, and sat. A lot was going through my head, but I had no answers. I have always needed an answer to anything going on in my head, and I got it. As cheesy as it may sound, a song gave me the answer.
As traffic sped by underneath the railway station, and the lights of the bridge kept me in a bittersweet mood, The Beatles song "Let It Be" came on with the shuffle. I sat, listening and thinking, and the song said what I was trying to figure out. Let It Be. That was it. Let It Be. As the song came to an end, as if in a move scene, the train arrived, and I boarded. I remember the next minutes on the train were all of reflection of the past few days. I didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to.
Feeling content, I decided that there was only one more place I needed to visit (a friend of mine wanted a picture of me here), and I got off the train at 42nd street. As I exited the subway, I found myself at the crossroads of the world with hundreds of other people, all still going strong at 1:30AM. I took in this moment, realizing that I had accomplished a lot this weekend, and was feeling very pleased with the way that Nat and I reunited and romanced each other on a level that we never had before. Eventually, I walked back to Penn Station, and boarded my train. Once again, it was that time of night where all of the Long Island partiers and drunks are going home.
I took a seat in the middle of the car, where the seats face each other. Three women, I would say early thirties, sat with me. Two across from me and one next to me. They wore too much makeup, and all dyed their hair blond to look more attractive to the average married businessman. Their Long Island accents were horrible. They were clearly drunk, especially the one next to me. The train began to move, and I turned on my Ipod. I was still able to hear their conversation over the music, and they were saying such ridiculous things that I would laugh at them. This, eventually led to them thinking that they were actually funny.
They began to talk to me, and the one sitting next to me asked what I was listening to. I replied,
"Frank Zappa." She told me she never heard of him, and asked the other two if they had. One had, and one hadn't. She then asked if I had any club music on my Ipod, and I laughed at her again. This made her whip out her phone, and play some shitty ringtone for me, and as she held the phone up to my ear, her friends began to laugh at her expense as well. I told her I couldn't hear it because she was trying to play a shitty song through a phone, to which she replied,
"Do you play pocket pool?" Her friends laughed very loud, and the entire section of the train car was now in on our conversation.
"Pocket pool? Where would you put the table?" I said as other people now began to laugh at her expense. One of the girls across from me was now on the phone telling a friend to meet them at the Rockville Center station and give them a ride. I asked where they were getting off, although I already knew, and they told me Rockville Center. This stop was coming up soon, but my luck got even better.
As the train arrived at Valley Stream, the automated speaker came on and said "This stop Valley Stream. Next stop Rockville Center." The drunk woman next to me got excited and asked me if we were at Rockville Center. I said yes, and the three of them got up, still laughing and talking loudly. As the door opened in Valley Stream, the one who sat next to me looked my way and said,
"Hey Vito, keep up the pocket pool!"
I responded with a smile and a charming "have a nice evening ladies." They exited the train and the doors closed. I remember looking at other people in the train car watching the girls with smiles on their faces, knowing what just happened. As the train began to pull away, we all watched as one of the girls realized that they were at the wrong station, and she yelled something and tried to run after the train. A guy sitting across the isle from me turned to me and said,
"you just made my evening."
I put my Ipod back on, and waited for Wantagh for the last time during this trip. I walked 15 minutes back to my parents house again. As I laid in bed, I thought of the weekend and how great it was. I thought of Natalie. I passed out.
9/30/07
My last morning was one of reflection. I felt as if I would be leaving something behind, but I knew that I would be returning in two months anyway. As I walked downstairs in my parents house, I saw that my father had already made a breakfast sandwich for me. I sat, ate, and packed. My parents asked how my weekend had been, I replied,
"great."
After packing, my parents drove me to the airport. The traffic was bad once again, mostly because the Mets were playing, and Shea Stadium is right next to La Guardia airport. As we pulled up to the terminal, I thanked them for letting me stay with them, and told them I would see them soon. I shook my father's hand and gave my mother a hug and kiss, and walked into the terminal.
Security was not as much of a hassle as I thought it would be. I was through within ten minutes, and although I ate just a little over two hours before, I thought I could go for a bite. I got a pint of lo mien, sat at a counter and ate with chop sticks. After eating, I sat in front of the large window at gate one. I have always enjoyed aviation, and so this was not 'bad waiting.' When they announced boarding, I once again walked out onto the tarmac toward the dual engine prop plane waiting for me. This time, I was seated in the very last row, which was only row 9.
I wanted to punch the steward, because he would not stop smiling. And I mean for the entire flight! It was not a bad flight by any means; we actually flew quite low, and I was able to pick out towns that I drive through at work every day on the ground. I got a nice aerial of Ithaca, Geneva, Canandaigua, and finally Rochester. A nice touch was flying toward downtown, and turning sharply toward the airport, and seeing my house next to "the tower."
Just as we touched down, I got a call from Jay, who said he was waiting outside. I exited the plane, found Jay and we were off. He said he needed diesel, so we stopped at the Hess on Mount Hope. This was also a good time to grab some beers. We got back to the house and sat out on the deck, enjoying the wonderful people watching of the South Wedge. After a few hours, we got in his Mercedes, and cruised out to BC camp, which is his parents cottage on Black Creek in Churchville. The dogs came with us, and we enjoyed soup and beer, and sat by the fire with the Schreibers.
As we sat, I told some stories of my weekend, and relaxed in the quiet of nature. I thought to myself that I already missed NYC, but it was also good to be back in Rochester with friends. Jay and I went home, and I passed out, dreading work the next day.
