New York, New York: Travel

I have a question, and even though it is redundant and everyone has heard it I am gonna ask it anyway. Why even make reservations anymore?

I bring this up because of the waiting I had to do for both my plane ride to New York and back to Nashville. I have heard and was well aware of the fact that planes are often delayed and do not get to their destination on time, but it doesn’t change the fact that it griped by ass. Why do they tell you to get to the airport an hour before your flight when it is undoubtedly going to take off at least 30 minutes after it is scheduled to? The same goes for doctors. Why even make an appointment for 2:00 when both you and the doctor know that you don’t have a chance of actually seeing him/her until around 3:15? I say that we adopt a new timetable for situations like this. It’s called “The Ish System.” Instead of an appointment at 2:00, we can say that you have an appointment around 2:00ish. Instead of saying your plane is departing at 8:00 am, we can say that the plane will depart at around 8:00 am…ish. Then if they leave without you it would be legal for you to sue them. This would really chafe their ass.

I understand that plane delays are often caused by weather and other elements out of the control of the airlines, but what if you (the customer) have such a similar incident? You are held up by a mudslide and will make it to your plane an hour late. Will they wait for you? Probably not. This is the two-sided system that we face.

Okay, so with that off my chest I can get back to the actual New York trip. The primary mode of transportation that I used while in NYC was the good old-fashioned ability of self-mobilization (or walking if you want to take the romance out of it). I walked many blocks in the four days that I was there, and as an outcome have ruined two good pairs of tight jeans by flexing my, now bulging, calves and ripping them at the seams. It was not only the cheapest way to get around, but also the most convenient when it came to the sight seeing thing. I did take the subway down to Greenwich Village and a cab back to the airport, thus taking advantage of the three main modes of transportation available in NYC.

The difference between traveling in NYC and traveling in Tennessee is the ratio of distance to shit to do. What I mean by this is that walking a mile in NYC is not as bad as it is in Tennessee because there is so much shit going on that you don’t really notice that you have walked a mile. Whereas, in TN you know when you have walked a mile because you are pretty much focused on your destination, since your destination is more than likely vastly more interesting that whatever else is going on around you. Also, most places in TN are in a kind of limbo stasis of relevance. What this implies is when I say that I live in Paris I usually have to follow that up with a relative distance from a major city like Jackson or Clarksville. The people that live in these limbo towns often have to travel to these cities to find viable, worthwhile entertainment and sustenance such as malls, clubs, and restaurants that don’t have either a drive-up window or buffet.

I found that the subway wasn’t as bad as everyone makes it out to be, but I also didn’t have to share a car with Crazy Bill from the planet Zorq and his 17 invisible squirrels at 3:00 in the morning. This probably would have painted my view of the subway in a different color. The only problem that I had was finding exactly where to go to catch my train to my destination. The trains were clearly labeled either alphabetically or numerically, and the color-coded chart that was displayed at the terminal was plainly laid out so that anyone with an advanced degree in Hyper Calculetic Cryptology could have figured it out. Alas, I could only achieve a degree in Sub-Hyper Calculetic Cryptology so I was stuck asking people “Does this train take me to Greenwich Village?” After only having to ask this question five times I was on my way.

The cab ride had to have been the worst travel experience I had while in New York. It was accurate to the movies and television shows that portray it. Now, I’m normally what you call a “close driver” anyway, which means that after driving on the interstates in Tennessee (which is a necessity to get anywhere with suitable food and entertainment) I have gotten to the point where the appropriate distance between my front bumper and the back bumper of the car in front of me is approximately the size of a cantaloupe. This leaves me just enough room to maneuver if the fool in front of me should slow down or, God forbid, try to stop. I often scare the shit out of people (figuratively speaking) when I drive because when brake lights flare I often don’t slow down, yet when I saw the way that people drive on New York streets I myself had trepidations about getting into a car and attempting to pull into traffic.

The cab ride went along the lines of this.
- The driver honks and pulls into traffic in front of three other cars.
- I grip the handle with a viselike death grip and clench my anus.
- Driver runs two yellow lights and almost sideswipes a van.
- I am sweating copiously and my teeth are grinding.
- Driver honks one time in warning and pulls off the road to access the bridge ramp, missing another car by a frog hair.
-I shit myself (figuratively…and a little literally).

The people at the airport were very sympathetic to my situation and showed me the way to the bathroom with minimal snickering.

New York, New York: The Overview

So, hibernation over…time to get to work.

When I started on the New York trip I wanted to do three things. One: I wanted to see a Broadway play. Two: I wanted to ride the subway and see if it is really as bad as they say it is. Three: I wanted to meet some cool people and hear at least one real New Yorker go on one of their famous cursing rants. I accomplished all three.

In these posts I want to explore the differences between New York (where I would like to live) and Paris, Tennessee (where I currently live). Now most people would say “Ghee, it’s kind of obvious what the differences are. New York is a big city, and Paris is a small city.” To them I would reply “Duh!” It’s the social differences that I want to explore. That is where the humor of life lies. In the little things that often go unnoticed.

To begin, let me give you an overview of the trip so that when I get down and start talking about actual events and scenarios you good readers will have some sort of reference.

Thursday
Morning: I arrived at the airport at 6:30 am, two hours early (such as suggested by both the airline website and by frequent fliers that I talked to), and was in the air promptly at around 10:00 (an hour and a half late).
Afternoon: I arrived in New York and took a shuttle van to the Grand Central Station where another van was supposed to arrive minutes later to take me to the hotel. Thus I knew that I would be waiting at least an hour (which proved to be an accurate estimate). The only thing that made this bearable was the copious amount of very attractive females that walked by me.
Evening: After checking into my hotel (another 45 minute process) and resting for a while I hit the streets. I discovered that New York is one of the only places that I have been that you can walk around aimlessly for over two hours without feeling bored and with the feeling that you are still missing something. I then found a restaurant and had dinner.
Night: At around 8:00 I left the restaurant and headed for the bars. I discovered that the bars in New York did not close until 4:00 am, and this is when my liver and kidneys both groaned and began a synchronized cursing at me. At 5:00 am I stumbled into my hotel and slept.

Friday
Morning: Woke up bright and early at 10:00 and had breakfast across the street. I then met up with my friend John (who was also visiting New York) and together we searched out a cigar store that I had heard about, Nat Sherman’s. Both of us being smokers, we were delighted to discover that they offered a smoking room where you could sit in comfortable leather chairs, watch sports on a large flat-screen television, and smoke a cigar in relative peace.
Afternoon: Ate lunch and walked around some more. Once again, I was amazed that I could spend a whole afternoon walking and still feel like there was much more to see.
Evening: Caught a bite to eat at a sushi restaurant and met a really cool family from France. At least….I think they were from France. They spoke French. I then attended the musical Wicked at the Gershwin Theatre, which was an excellent show that I would recommend to anyone.
Night: Bars! Got to see a pretty good local live band, and met a cool group of people and had a great conversation while we stood outside smoking. We went from discussing John Grisham to discussing theological philosophies. It was a weird transition that was made natural by the fact that we were all pretty shit-faced. Good times. 5:00 am…crashed into bed.

Saturday
Morning: Woke up again promptly around 10:00 and had breakfast. Met John again and spent some time around the Times Square area (in the rain) and met a cool guy named Joe who worked for Comedy Central and sold us some tickets to a comedy show at The Improv.
Afternoon: Took the subway down to Greenwich Village to check out where I would have been staying if I had been accepted to The New School. It was a cool place. Had lunch there at a horror movie themed restaurant
Evening: Took the subway back to 42nd street and chilled out in the hotel room for a while.
Night: Went to the comedy show at The Improv, which was a little of a disappointment. Two of the comics were funny and the other three were just alright. These are the risks you take when buying tickets off the street from people named Joe. Hit the bars afterwards. I had to catch a plane the next day so I went to bed early at about 2:30.

Sunday
Morning: Had breakfast at 9:00 (yeah it surprised me too) at a pompous French place. It was still raining so walking was done in the fashion of trying to dodge other people’s umbrellas (which were mostly conveniently located at eye level so that I ran a constant risk of losing an orb to the pointy metal extensions). Checked out of the hotel at around 11:30.
Afternoon: Got smart and took a cab to the airport. Pissed my pants on the way (it was raining so no one noticed). My plane didn’t leave until 5:30, but I didn’t want to walk around New York in the rain dragging my, circa 1976, suitcase behind me. So I spent the afternoon at LaGuardia Airport.
Evening: Got on my plane promptly at 7:00 (an hour and a half late) and headed back to Nashville.

Most people so far have asked me much of the same questions. “Did you go to Ground Zero?” “Did you go to the Statue of Liberty?” “Did you go to the Empire State Building?” Basically most people want to know if I did the typical tourist thing and visit the typical tourist places. The answer is “No.” I didn’t want to do those things. They didn’t interest me as much as just the ambiance of the city and its different areas. The only places that I wanted to visit that I didn’t were Chinatown, Chelsea, Tribeca, and the west side harbor district. Each of those places deserve their own day, there just wasn’t enough time.

But overall I had fun, and I came back with a better appreciation of the city and an overwhelming need to go back. Possibly for good. After visiting I can see myself living there more than ever, and I believe that a job hunt is in order. But…one step at a time. For now I am content to admire from a distance and plan the eventuality of habitation in The Big Apple.