What may have seemed like a boring night to the New York residents who accompanied us that night was rather exciting for someone who is used to quiet, uneventful Northern California.
A late night rendevous with Mike's friends began at about midnight in Lower East Side Manhattan. Our journey started at the Bowery Street Poetry Club. The first band was a loud, angry lesbian band singing about how straight people didn't accept them, but how they shouldn't care. Next, a Mad-TV style comedy routine by two girls wearing tight, short shorts and halter tops. Then, two guys jumping up and down while playing neo-wave electro and singing about Ibiza. We left at about the time the singer guy stripped down to his g-string and started waving his ass at the audience.
This was the part that energized me the most, even though it was to others probably the most uneventful part of the night. (Not the guy waving his ass, but walking through the streets of New York!). One of Mike's friends said it was the worst possible night to go out in lower east side, because everyone was out. It was not that there was nothing to do, it was that every place was packed to the gills. The reason why this is my favorite part: catching the tiny snippets as you pass by the hoards of people walking down the street... bouncing from bar to bar. Hanging out with Jay, Mike's buddy, who seemed to know someone in every place we went and knew every place that was cool to go. He led us through the busy streets from crowded bar to crowded bar. We finally ended up at Max Fisch's, where we had to squeeze past the bar area madness to find some chairs by the pool table in the back.
"I am an uptight New Yorker," Jay was saying. "I am always on the go, if one place bores me there's probably something exciting happening a few blocks from here."
Later we decided to go to Jay's apartment rooftop to chill. The view overlooked the Empire State Building and surrounding areas. The lights of the city and the whirlwind of taxis flying by somehow seemed to calm me. Feeling so small, yet part of something so big. There was something that felt so tangible about the experience I was having, something alive, the times you wanted in to dwell in, the times when you weren't wishing you were somewhere else.
The cabbie literally flew back to Times Square. Our fare was only $6 as compared to the $10 we had paid to get out there. We grabbed a 4:30 am slice of pizza at the place across from the hotel. It was some of the best pizza I had ever had. I didn't pass out until near 5:30 am, with the sounds of the City still blaring outside the window. I could never live there, I would never sleep. The City calls you out to it, breathing with its own life. As we walked along, I heard a girl say to her friend, "Where are we going? What are we doing? Why are we still here?" To which her friend replied, "I'm going home! The sun's almost up! I'm going to sleep!" It was too reminiscent of the comment Jay had made earlier. I chuckled to myself as we headed back to the Paramount.
In the morning we strolled down to the Intrepid Museum of Sea, Air, and Space. It is a huge aircraft carrier with planes, tanks, helicopters, and other vehicles on display. The clouds were excellent that day and the photographer in me emerged. Meanwhile, Mike was like a kid in a candy store, racing from plane to plane, identifying them, talking about how cool they were. And he had a blast spinning me around for a few minutes straight in the G-Force flight simulator. (Not my favorite part.)
There was so much more I didn't get to see, but it was time to go back to Philadelphia...
