Well, I must say, I miss Manhattan. I can fully understand why New Yorkers feel that those of us who live in other “cities” must be, in some sense, only kidding. Liz has that point.

But at the same time, I was very happy to make it all the way to my office this morning without smelling human excrement anywhere. I never went more than 2 hours this weekend without being assaulted by either sewer gas, a spot that had been “marked” by a pissing bum, or some psychotic homeless fellow on the subway who must have just shat hisself. Blech.

And I am very, VERY happy to be wearing my NB running shoes, with all that arch support and comfy goodness. Limping around Manhattan yesterday was quite painful; when I got home last night and took my shoes off, I expected to see bruised, bloody stumps where I used to have feet. It wasn’t that bad, but I’ve definitely learned that I need some black urban-assault heavy-walking-duty shoes.

So, when last we left our hero, I was seeking the safety of Comfort Inn. I found it. Twenty-five more bucks for the night got me air conditioning, a soft bed, free soap and a nice shower, and, of course, Spectravision (Movie title does not appear on room bill). It did not buy me peace and quiet, though; it’s still the city, and the fellow below my window started working on the sidewalk with his jackhammer promptly at 8am. That’s alright, I was travelling; no sense sleeping the day away.

Some more random Manhattan memories:

  • “Do you want some Purel? I always carry it with me,” my childhood friend Kim said as I excused myself to go wash my hands for the 27th time. The subway is GREAT, but I can definitely see why one might want to buy a good pair of gloves in that town.
  • My campaign to bring back the fedora has begun! One thing about Manhattan…if you want it, you can probably find it there, and get it even cheaper with cash! I found a sweetie much like this one on Broadway Monday morning, on my way down to ground zero. Later, the barmaid at Gamut told me it was worth the purchase; it was “definitely your look,” I believe she said. She was cute enough to make it quite the compliment, too!



  • They really, really do have great pizza in NYC. Much like my trips to Ireland have basically been extended pub crawls to sample the stouts countrywide, I walked many a mile this weekend seeking slices of different pies. They were all absolutely outstanding.
  • Some of the most exotically beautiful women in the entire world (from what I’ve seen) must live in NYC. I don’t know what the influences were — Arabic? Greek? Slavic? Asian? — but it all came together in a most fabulous way. The bold, brash way that many New Yawkers have about them only made these girls all the sexier — and those boots! Ay, mami!

    • *picking tongue back up and continuing*

  • Gamut is a groovy, groovy-ass lounge. I went in for a couple of drinks and stayed for…too many. Part ambience, part location, part barmaid; all great. Thanks, Melissa!
  • On my way home from Gamut, an official NYC hooker offered me an official NYC blowjob. Wasn’t that sweet of her? I declined (duh!) but actually thought for half a second, I wonder if she’d let me at least take her picture for ten bucks, you know, to complete my 6-roll account of my trip (for the coffee table book, right?). Wish I had….

    • More later…



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