America, final stop

I will sum up the story with a seperate blog entry, at a later date. This part is all about New York City. A seperate conclusion blog is warranted for a trip of this magnitude.

But first, I'd like to add something from the Boston entry that completely slipped my mind, somehow.

After the maid woke me up on the 2nd day, I went and used the internet for a bit. A hostel employee came into the computer area and asked if anyone wanted a free night, in exchange for doing some work. I'm normally allergic to work, so I just ignored him. He couldn't get any volunteers, so he asked me specifically if I'd help. I asked what it involved, and he said I just had to move bout 60 ten pound boxes from the truck outside, into the lobby. Seemed easy enough. So 12 minutes of work later, I was given a refund on my 2nd nights accoms...30 bucks Good deal, eh?

Okay, so onto the day I left Boston.

I got to the airport uneventfully, about 2 hours early. After sitting there for 45 minutes or so, an airline employee asked if anyone with no checked baggage would be willing to take the earlier flight, which was leaving in 10 minutes. Naturally, I volunteered.

So I get on this little plane, and proceed to NYC an hour early. When we arrive on the runway, we are informed there is a taxiway closed, and the plane can't get to it's gate.

How long do you think we were there? If you guessed an hour, you'd be correct.

Total time saved - NONE!

NEW YORK

Get to JFK, which has NINE terminals. Nine. Of course, I get on the AirTrain at terminal 2...so the train has to go to all of the other terminals before it can take me to my destination, the subway.

I called my friend Jeff, who was in NYC at the same time with his wife, 2 daughters, and sister Jeanette. I was staying at the same hotel as them. I arranged to meet up with him later in the day, after some exploring.

The subway was...black. No racism intended here, this is reality. The train started in Queens and headed towards Manhattan, and I was literally the only white guy on the train. It was...not like Vancouver. No big deal though. I've seen enough 50 cent videos, I knew the "lingo". I threw up a "westside" and chilled with my homies. Relax, I'm kidding. I'm really not that ignorant. A "westside" would only be applicable in LA. Duh. Ever seen the video for "White and Nerdy" by Weird Al? Welcome to my world.

Got off the train right beside the WTC site, and walked around. I was hungry first, so I went to burger king, and ordered a chicken sandwich. This is how they prepare them.

1. Cook chicken.

2. Coat interior of bun in mayo.

3. Insert chicken into bun.

4. Roll entire sandwich in mayo. Twice.

5. Serve. Call paramedics, in case of heart attack.

After those 4385 calories, I checked out the WTC area. The site is...well, a construction site. Not a ton to see. There are various places around it that are sorta makeshift memorials for the people lost in the tragedy. I checked them out quickly, then continued to explore.

I walked down to Wall St, and checked out the NYSE. Pretty cool building. Outside looks like a greek temple, I believe. I continued to head south till I hit Battery Park, which is really nice. Great view. You can see the Statue of Liberty there....but barely. She's looking in the wrong direction, so you don't get much out of it. I found out the ferry to the statue is like 22 bucks. And then was told by a kind homeless person the Staten Island ferry was free, and goes right by it. And he wanted a dollar for that info. Shoulda asked for it up front, sucker.

I saved the ferry for another day, and walked northeast towards the brooklyn bridge. It was pretty cool, from the vantage point I had. I certainly wasn't gonna attempt to cross it though (heights, underwear, etc...remember?).

I decided now would be a good time to go check into my hotel, so I ventured there. Did I mention it was in Jersey?

I took the subway to Grand Central station, which was totally awesome. It's huuuuuge. It's funny, I've seen it probably 10 times on TV since I got home, and never would have given it a second thought till after I had actually been there. It's definitely worth checkin out.

It's 5 blocks from grand central to the port authority, so I decided to walk. Part of this walk takes you through a bit of Times Square. My first trip though there, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Bunch of huge advertisements, and neon...so what? I'd get my Times Square lesson later in the trip.

Got to the Port Authority, which is....massive. Asked for directions to my hotel shuttle....I was given a flyer for public transit, and pointed towards a whole other building. She said 2 words: "Jersey Transit". That was it. She didn't answer any of my other questions. Gooo customer service!

I walked through this big building, across the street to another one, up 4 floors, all the way to the back, and find Jersey Transit. But....no hotel shuttles. Now I'm a little annoyed. I had no calling card, so it was 1 dollar (in quarters) to call long distance from a payphone (Jeff;'s cell is from Washington). Put in a dollar, call Jeff....voicemail. Call the hotel (long distance too, since it's in Jersey...even though it's 2 miles away!) to ask, and the phone cuts out.

I'm now out of quarters.

Go to the store there, ask for change. MAGICALLY, I have to buy something....a 2.25 bottle of water later, I have more quarters. Call hotel back, they tell me where the shuttle leaves from.

Right beside the info booth I originally asked at, in the other building!

Fuck!

I go back, annoyed, and find the shuttle. The shuttle has seats with spongebob squarepants seat covers. A little odd. But, 2 dollars later, I'm in Jersey, a few blocks from my hotel (since Toys R Us, my stop, doesn't translate to spanish very well). Check in, lounge in my room for a bit, call Jeff, and decide where to meet up with him.

The shuttles towards NYC stop right in front of the hotel, so I go out and catch one back. After we get through the lincoln tunnel into NYC, a latino guy and the latino driver start yelling at each other. I have no clue what's going on, since I'm the only non-latino on the bus. Apparently, the kind bus driver takes pity on my situation, and decides to translate everything for me, mid-argument. The passenger would yell, and the driver would repeat what he said in english. Then he'd yell in spanish...and repeat it in english for me.

By the way, the argument was over the fact the guy wanted to be let off 3 blocks before the final (and only) stop, and the driver wouldn't do it cuz he can get a ticket for it. We were stuck in traffic, so this went on for 2 or 3 minutes. I was trying not to laugh, till the passenger kicked the driver! The driver got up, they pushed each other, and the driver pushed him right down the bus stairs, through the door (which opened on impact). I guess he got his wish? The driver apologized, and we continued onto our destination. I tipped him 3 bucks for kickin some ass, and for translating. I'm nice like that.

Have I mentioned that I've only been in NYC for about 7 hours at this point? This is gonna be a loooong entry. We're already about 7000 characters.

I walked thru a lil more of Times Square, and went to the ESPN Zone (Bar 18), to watch some Champions League soccer (sorry Terry...football). 3 games were on at the same time, all on huge screens right beside each other. That entertained me for a while, then I wandered towards where I was supposed to meet Jeff and family. I was still a lil early, so I went to an Irish Bar (Bar 19) for a pint. The staff had fake irish accents, which was pretty amusing. And I saw Little Brazil. Woo.

Evenutally, I meandered up to Fifth and met up with Jeff and Co. We went for dinner at the biggest BBQ place I've ever seen, in Times Square again. Then headed back to the hotel in Jersey.

Jeff and I decide to go get some booze...we saw that the liquor store at the top of the street was closed....oh well, booze is easy to get in the states, right?

Yes....in every state except New Jersey, apparently.

Other liquor store? Closed. At 9pm. Grocery store? No dice. Gas station. Nope. We decided to ask at the gas station, and the guy acted like we were trying to buy heroin. He looked all around, leaned in, and whispered "38th and Bergenline".

Umm...okay. That's a little odd. What the fuck does that mean?

There was a cab in the gas station parking lot, so we decided to ask the cabbie. We told him about the 38th and Bergenline thing we just got from Sketchy McGee inside, and he said he knew where that was. They were streets! Did we wanna go there? Hell yeah we did!

Get into cab, he starts goin. Umm...he's got no meter.

Okay...that's a little odd too.

Get to the place, he says he'll wait. We go inside this little store...it was more than a little odd. 18 packs of beer were cut into 6ers. Literally cut. And taped on one side, so the bottles wouldn't fall out. I grabbed 12 millers lites, Jeff grabs 6 heinekens. Walk to the counter, guy's on the phone. I pull out a 20, and he says "yeah, 20 dollars", and takes it outta my hand. No change, no other acknowledgement (big word, hope it's spelled right, go Blue!), just back to his convo.

Okay, that was really odd.

Cabbie takes us back to the hotel and says "12 dollars".

Where the fuck did he pull that number out of? We were in the cab a total of 4 minutes, there and back!

We didn't argue though...we paid, got back to the hotel, and described the weirdest 10 minutes of our lives to Jeanette and Melissa.

Jersey = odd.

Rest of the night was pretty calm....beer drinking, chillin....sleepy time.

Day 2 begins normally enough. Head to NYC with the Gargaros. No mexican MMA this time. They head off to shop, I decide to head to the Circle Line ferry, for a 3 hour ferry ride all around Manhattan. After walking through Hell's Kitchen (which wasn't scary at all), I arrived at the ferry....5 minutes late for the only sailing of the day. Dammit. Hoof it back all the way to Grand Central, planning to take the train to Connecticut. They were packed, and I had just missed the one I wanted...again. So I took the subway to the Bronx...to check out Yankee Stadium.

Wow, if I thought the Queens-Manhattan subway was noir....welcome to the Bronx. Well, that's not true. There was a puerto rican rapper on the train...he had a mic, and amp, the whole deal. He was entertaining for the first 2 stations. After 11...it was a lil repetitive. He got 5 dollars to "shut the fuck up" just before I got to my stop.

161st St. Yankee Stadium. The heart of the Boogie Down. I'm white, so I'm not sure if I'm actually allowed to call it that. But it makes me laugh dammit, so boogie down it is.

I got off the subway, amid a few stares. I think I heard the words "stupid tourist" used more than once. Anyways, I did a lap around the stadium, which was pretty damn cool, even though I was a lil scared. It didn't take me long to get caught up in exactly what I was looking at. I might hate the Yankees, but this was The House That Ruth Built. The Holy Grail of baseball. Since there was only 1 tour a day (long before I got there), I decided to do what I did at Wrigley...go to a bar across the street, and have a beer.

Then I remembered where I was.

I scurried back to the subway and went back to the "safety" of mid-town manhattan. I even skipped the zoo. I'm actually mad at myself over all of this.

I bowed to my own insecurities and left. I'm sure everyone I came across was just going about their day, completely oblivious to me. I know that the Yankee stadium area isn't the safest area of town, and going there in baseball offseason wasn't exactly brilliant. But 4 million plus people a year go to the bronx zoo, and I fucking live for zoos...it was 2 miles away...so why didn't I go? Cuz I'm a wuss, plain and simple.

Oh well...I didn't go to the San Diego zoo the first time I went to SD. Gave me a reason to go back. Same goes with this zoo.

Anyways, I decided now was the time to take the Staten Island ferry. So I took the subway all the way back to Battery Park, and got on. It was crazy busy...these boats can hold 6000 people! The one I was on probably had 4000 easy, since it was rush hour. I was sitting there, minding my own business, when I heard:

"Is your hair blond or red?"

I ignored it, cuz I had no idea it was directed at me. Till the girl behind me poked me in the back and repeated herself.

I was wearing my hat, so I took it off and showed her my hair is....fuck, I dunno. Light brown, I guess. I bleached my hair white/blond for so long, I was still coming to terms with my natural hair colour for the first time in 10 years (thanks Shannon! Just kidding!)

I asked why she asked that, and she said that cuz of my facial hair and sideburns, she couldn't tell. Fair enough. She was bout 25, cute enough, glasses...and a kid. Bout 3, I'd guess. She said she wanted to dye her hair bright red, like the colour of my jersey (Arizona Cardinals). I asked why, and she said that she'd never seen another puerto rican with that colour hair, and it'd look cool. Umm, okay.

I asked her name (Maria), and she asked mine. I'm not sure why she asked, since she referred to me as "white boy" for the rest of the convo.

Anyways, we babbled for a few minutes, she was alright. Then outta nowhere, she asked for my number. I told her I was from Canada, and it'd be long distance for her. Her response was classic:

"What? Canada? I can't afford calling that shit, white boy! You're cute and all, but my parents don't like me with non puerto ricans anyways".

Her kid was half black. The cornrows gave it away. The kiddo waved at me. I waved back.

We cruised by the Statue of Liberty, super close, which was awesome. We talked a lil more, nothing important. The ferry was close to docking, so she got up and walked towards the exit, without saying anything. After she got about 30 feet away, she turned around and said "Call me if you ever move to Staten Island, white boy!", and proceeded to walk all the way back (leaving her kid there, in her stroller) and gave me her number.

And to think, I coulda been the surrogate babydaddy of a half puerto rican, half black kid. It'd be fun explaining that one to dad.

Anyways, I got offa the ferry, and caught the next one back. When I got back, I walked back up to the WTC site, and met up with Jeff and family, at the 4385 calorie burger king. Another trip to the BBQ joint, some girl shopping, and lotsa goofing around with Olivia and Hailey (Jeff's daughters, 4 years, and 11 months, respectively), and back to the hotel. Another glorious day in NYC.

Day 3 was parade day. For most people. It was pouring rain for most of the night. American Thanksgiving Day in NYC is famous for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. You have to get down there like 3 hours early to get a good view. Starts at 9am. Jeff came by and banged on my door at 7. It was still raining. I did what any good tourist does.

I sent him packing and slept till 11:30.

I woke up, watched the last half hour on TV (It was 2 miles away!) and leisurely went into town around 1. Walked bout 20 blocks and met up with them at a toy store on the edge of central park. It was still raining pretty hard, but nothing insane. Till I got inside the toy store. Then the skies opened up. I was planning on checking out more of Central Park, since I was there...but screw that, the rain was insane. We took the subway back to Grand Central, where Melissa fed the baby in a subway bathroom (guarded by Jeff). Then we went to TGI Fridays (bar 20). It counts cuz I had a 10 dollar frilly margarita FULL of booze. Jeff had one too. And Jeanette paid for it. Thanks dear!

The weather was still shit, so we wandered around for a while, before going back to the BBQ place (again! It was that good!) and had a good dinner. Then I got a real taste of Times Square.

We walked up 42nd, covering all Times Square had to offer. (Except David Blaine...he was doing one of his stunts at the time, hovering above Times Square...I never found him, but Jeff did...dammit) Anyways, the "Square" stretched on forever. Guys came up with stolen watches, trying to sell them to us. Jeff and Jeanette ended up buying them. This is the one-sided transcript of our new friend "Jamal" (His real name is withheld to protect his privacy):

"Keep that shit down! Close the fuckin box, dammit! Pigs everywhere! 100? For both? You killin me! 150! Okay, 130. That's only 100! Not 100, fuck! PUT THAT SHIT BACK IN YO JACKET YO! That's only 105! You aint got no more, huh? What you got, girl? DON'T TAKE THE FUCKIN BOX OUT, JUST YO MONEY! 110? Come on, I know you got more than that. 117? Deal! Hide that shit!"

They're fucking nice watches, too. Hope Ryan liked his.

Right after this happened, a guy carrying a HUGE garbage bag over his shoulder walked up beside us, and opened it up...with like 100 purses in it.

"GET YOUR PURSES HERE!"

And women from everywhere can running. It was mental.

That's Times Square, folks. Glamour, lights, and whatever you need. If it's raining, umbrellas are on sale in 2 minutes. No joke, we witnessed it. Jeff had to buy 2. Like Jeff said, when the sun comes out, they're probably selling sunglasses 2 minutes later. It was hilarious.

Anyways, after we got our fill of the Times Square Swap Meet, we took the subway back to the port authority. I decided to sit down, put my hat on the ground, and sing O Canada. LOUD. I got a dollar and a nickel for my efforts. Too bad they were from Jeff and Jeanette. Guess my song choice sucked. Oh well.

Back to Jersey after that. Me n Jeff tried to take a cab (meterless again) to get food and beer. Unfortunately, the restuarant where we had been before (Pollo Tropical!) was closed. I didn't know Mexican's celebrated Thanksgiving. Anyways, we went back to the shady liquor store, which was full of mexicans. They all stopped talking when we came in, and looked at us in shock. We were ghosts or something, at least to them. We were horribly overcharged again, but too afraid to question it, so we went back to the hotel. 16 dollars this time. Totally random.

Jeff calls a few takeout places, all closed. He gives up and goes potty, so I try. First one I call, Tony's Pizza, answers. The lady manages to call me sweetie, honey, and baby in a 45 second convo. She wants me. Anyways, I order pizza, the other 3 order all sorts of pasta. Damn Italians. They all make fun of me cuz they think the phone lady wants me. Delivery guy shows, and says it's 13 dollars. According to the yellow pages menu, the order should be about 29 bucks. I actually say "ARE YOU SURE?" Like a moron. Jeff elbows me, gives the guy 20, and he leaves. Apparently, phone lady DOES want me, and gives me a discount.

Till the phone rings 20 minutes later.

"Maria" (Why is every woman I talk to in NYC named Maria?) is pissed that we didn't pay enough. We explain the situation, including the 6+ dollar tip to the driver. She mutters "that bastard" and says the difference will come outta her pay, so she's comin to get it. Okay then. I've managed to anger italians. In Jersey. Have you seen the Sopranos? I'm with Italian-canadians. They don't even have big trunks, much less any other real italian qualities. Well, Jeanette does like to eat.

Anyways, we lucked out. Tony called off Vito and the gang. Maria called back and said it was okay, happy thanksgiving, it was all covered.

And I was all ready to get whacked n shit.

Another fun-filled day in the big apple. And North Bergen, NJ.

Last day. Wake up, take cab to the airport with the Gargaros (minus Jeanette, who flew home to Toronto earlier that day). Arrange an exit row seat. Goof around with the kids and Jeff for a couple hours till flying time. Watch "The Devil Wears Prada" and "Just My Luck" on the plane. Resist the urge to upchuck. Lindsay Lohan saves me from that, happily. Survive the 6 hour flight in really good shape. The best "long" flight I've ever had. Say my goodbyes to the Gargaros (thank you soooo much for putting up with me! Melissa, thanks for laughing at my jokes! I'll express more witty gratitude in my next blog, you know what I'm dealin with), and fly home to Vancouver. Cleared customs, and...I was HOME. Honestly, no matter how obessed you are with travelling....nuthin feels like home. Bus(es) to Oliver Twist, welcome home drink, case of beer, home to dad, and bullshitting all night. And the news I've been talking about a bit through the pentalogy.

I'll sum up the trip in a blog when I get home (I'm in Victoria, in case you missed that) on friday/saturday, and describe the 2 weeks since I got home.

Overall....it was...epic. The trip of a lifetime, for your average person.

For me?

Just the beginning. Ya heard?