shrimpchopsteve

this weekend  almost didn’t happen. it came right down to the wire. when mere (pronounced /me(ə)r/, you know, like bear) first invited me up sunday or monday i found a $99 ticket but i stubbornly — foolishly — sat on it. the next day tickets were starting at $249! i mean, new york’s great and all, but i’m not gonna be working for the next year so i’ve gotta pinch my pennies. i kept looking and i found a ticket for $109 thursday morning. not as cheap as before, but significantly cheaper than $249.

my next concern after purchasing the ticket was having enough time to get through security. i ran an errand for my mom before i left and i got to the airport later than i had hoped i would, but there were only 8 people in the entire airport so security worked out too. that is until i showed mr. tsa my ticket and driver’s license. he grinned at me and said “today’s your lucky day, buddy. line 4 please.” i’m not your buddy, guy. at the time i wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but i know now that whenever you hear “today is your lucky day” in an airport it most certainly is not your lucky day. i know this because line 4 led to a private screening room where i was frisked by a bald 7-foot-tall stacked goliath who just kept assuring me that this is “the worst part” of his job. and even though all my clothes were on, that was pretty much the most uncomfortable moment of my life… fellas, wait till we turn 40… god… 

there was a stone cold beauty in the terminal waiting at my gate. she reminded me of a scene from my favorite chick flick hitch: 

hitch: now, on the one hand, it is very difficult for a man to even speak to someone who looks like you. but, on the other hand, should that be your problem?
sara: so life’s kind of hard all around.
hitch: not if you pay attention. i mean, you’re sending all the right signals - no earrings, heels under two inches, your hair is pulled back, you’re wearing reading glasses with no book, drinking a grey goose martini, which means you had a hell of a week and a beer just wouldn’t do it. and if that wasn’t clear enough, there’s always the “fuck off” that you have stamped on your forehead.

she didn’t look exactly like sara, but she was close: arms crossed, sunglasses, silent, but still the most interesting person in the room. we ended up sitting next to each other on the plane. she’s a pre-med student who’s into john legend and was the first person i met on the trip.

mere picked me up from the airport, got me some chinese food, and took me home (yeah buddy). we schmoozed with her rents for a minute and then she put me on a train to penn station.

the city hits you pretty hard. there’s something invigorating, almost surreal, in those first few steps on the streets of new york. admittedly, it still takes a moment or two for me to get over the sheer volume of people, the lights, the smells, and the wow-factor of the big apple. my first stop of the evening was at cat’s cradle. we sipped a bottle of wine, ordered a chicken bacon ranch pizza from papa john’s, and listened to fireworks on the roof with chad (if manhattan wasn’t in the way, and if times square wasn’t on, i bet we could have seen them). needless to say burgers and dogs (and lobster!) didn’t happen with mere’s family nor did fireworks over the river on the roof of a car, but i did meet 2 more people at cat’s (3). after the fireworks we went to the village to see katrina play at 169 bar, but, long story short, she wasn’t playing. we had a drink or two and then met up with marielle at the irish rogue and stayed there until god knows when.  no one slept until 6.

i was up the next morning at 7:45 because i always wake up as soon as the sunlight hits me. does anyone else have that problem? it really sucks. anyway, marielle and i went out for some brunch and then i had the rest of the afternoon to myself. i wandered around time square and harold square for a few hours. i dawdled here and i meandered there. but it all just felt so empty. like something was missing, you know? i tried to fill the void myself. i bought a vest at h&m but that didn’t help. i decided that my afternoon needed a purpose. it needed direction. it needed rizzo’s. i hopped a subway and fell asleep before i got off to transfer so i got off on roosevelt island where i met abuelita (4). she asked me “d’joo espeak espaneesh?” she wanted me to find 71 roosevelt (really? pobrecita). i did the best i could ¡todo en español! and then chad called. he got cut from his last day of work early so we met in midtown and got rizzo’s in queens together. their pizza is sooo damn gooooooood!

marielle got me into young frankenstein for free-nintey-nine but i was a doofus and got on the wrong train and went 15 minutes in the wrong direction. i missed most of the first act, but the rest of it was really good. later that evening chad and i went to an irish bar where katrina (5) was hosting karaoke. we hung out there for a while, i met another dude (6), but we were exhausted from the day before so we went home early. we munched on some meat kebabs, watched 2 episodes of californication, and went to bed.

in case you’ve just crawled out from under your rock like me, californication is an edgy racy comedy on showtime starring david duchovny. here’s the itunes review: david duchovny makes a triumphant return to television in a new comedy series centering around one-hit wonder novelist hank moody (duchovny), who struggles to help raise his 13-year-old daughter, while still carrying a torch for his ex-girlfriend karen. everyday finds hank in bed with another woman and two steps back from his ultimate goal: restoring his family. he wouldn’t mind reviving his writing career either, if only he could get over his massive case of writer’s block. his obsession with honesty and his self-destructive behavior — drinks, drugs, and women — are simultaneously destroying and enriching his career… all in the city he loathes the most — los angeles. he’s holding it together while falling apart — and he doesn’t mind it one bit. how could you not love that?! now, i know what you’re thinking. you’re thinking: david duchovny…? really……? so was i! but you’ve gotta watch it. you’ll be hooked after the first show, i promise.

chad and i slept in to the ungodly hour of 11:45 sunday morning. we got up. showered. hopped a train to film center café for brunch with katrina and fragile (7). we lazed around for a few hours sipping bellinis, mimosas, and champaign. after brunch we caught wall-e on 42nd street. it’s such a sweet movie. i bumped into laurel outside the theater, met three more people (10), and then met two more before we made it home (12)… and now i feel like i’m missing a sizable chunk of my weekend… i know that at some point we went back to chad’s and started watching the rest of californication… but what did we do before that…? meh. we watched all but the last 2 episodes, got some grub at the dinner down the street, then went to bed.

monday morning got off to a lazy start. i woke up early, showered, and waited for everyone else to get up. we finished the last 2 episodes of californication (omg!) and headed into the city. chad was off to a farewell party so katrina and i spent the afternoon together in the chelsea area. we people watched a bit in union square, did some window shopping at rags-a-go-go, and admired the empire state building from a park bench. we parted ways around 6 when i made my trek over to chelsea studios where curtis was shooting. i’m not exactly sure what i can and can’t say about the shoot, so i’ll just say that i met nine more people (21). and that it was fun. and that curtis is my hero.

i went back to jersey that night and got up with mere again. we went to bed pretty much as soon as i got home because we had an early day of driving back to raleigh to rest up for. the ride back was tranquil. we listened to a lot of chris brown, gavin degraw, aslyn, daniel tosh, and dane cook. yeah, the ride home was fairly uneventful. except for the part where i hit a tire in the road and destroyed mere’s mom’s van’s bumper…