new york city. h-o-l-y s-h-i-t. i spent the weekend there with my 2 best friends from high school and a sorority sister from college and a shit ton of random people i've never met before. it was my first time. i know, i know, no one can believe that i'm 25 and never been to new york before. it's a good thing i haven't. i came back broke as the homeless and hungover as a college student on their first real bender. serious. but i must say that i indoubtedly had the best weekend of my entire life and have now made the decision that i will be moving there someday. soon. well 1 or 2 years soon, but nonetheless, soon. let me give you a brief (who am i kidding) recap. well what i can remember anyways.
i fly into newark on friday night. newark, you ask? yes, newark. one of my best friends lives there. again, newark, you ask? yup. when people refer to jersey as the armpit of america, they are hands down discussing newark. i think an actual armpit is better. these people in newark are unreal. i went to the only bar/restaurant/dance club (yes it was all three) that is suitable for white suburbia, and i am lucky that i survived. here's why. i am seated at the bar next to a large brazilian man. 80% of the population in newark is brazilian. nothing against brazilians, just stating the obvious. i ask him for his lighter to light my cigarette. it's a zippo. zippo's are prized possesions in newark. he gets up to go to the bathroom. when he comes back, his zippo is missing. he taps me on the shoulder, asking if i know who "stole" his coveted zippo. i say no, and turn the other way. next thing i know i get elbowed in the face by this man when he gets into a heated argument with the patron sitting next to him who is the one who in fact "stole" the zippo. this patron turns out to be a friend of the large brazilian and he "stole" the lighter as a joke. i guess he learned his lesson. as i did mine. stay the f out of newark. forever.
saturday moning, this trip has a LOT to do to redeem itself from the night before. i have the worst taste in my mouth about this place. we board the path to nyc (yeah baby), and walk off 45 minutes later onto 6th and 27th. Gramercy Park. ooh la la. already i was in love. but enough about my torrid love affair with this city, we'll get to that later. well, probably not. just rememeber: i love new york.
anyways, we spent the rest of the day/night doing typical new york things: eating, drinking, shopping, central park, battery park, luna park, eating, drinking, shopping. you get the pic. now comes sunday. the best day ever. we wake up in a haze from the night before. we got in as the sun was coming up. did i mention i love this place? we go to brunch where it is $17.95 all the mimosas and bloody's that one can drink. holy. shit. bring it on. there are 6 of us there. sorority sister brought along her gay best friend rob (alter ego bobby), and now he is my best friend as well, seeing as how every time the waitress would think we were leaving, he would order another round. brunch ended at 6. brunch started at 1. you understand. we continue on the bender that was our day, and go to another outdoor drinking hole. we manage to stay there until 9 or so, and remember that we have forgotten to check into out hotel. nice. we gather ourselves a bit and check into the facey hotel. when i say everyone knew we had arrived, please believe me. 3 drunk girls, facey hotel, hot bellboys? you do the math. our hot bellboy carted our 9 bags (yes, 9. for 3 nights. 3 girls.) to the 16th floor. so we get to our room. tipped the bellboy. and by tipping i mean made out with. brittan (best friend, NOT the one from newark) bet me i wouldn't do it. i am not one to turn down a bet. ever. try me. so i made out with the bellboy. hey, i never said i was classy.
the night continues. you all should appreciate this. remember the boy i talked about in the ritz carlton post? remember he lives in new york? yes, you all remember. anyways, he calls. he's at the jersey shore, and won't be returning until monday. the day i am leaving. he has now asked me to stay in new york an additional 2 days and HE will pay for my flight change. on sunday night this is obviously what i am going to do. monday morning i was thinking a bit clearer. then he calls. and asks me to do stay. AGAIN. what do i do? spontanaity (sp?) is not my thing. i am nervous. long story short, i end up not staying, much to his protests. but then i got thinking...i was genuinely upset when it didn't work out. i might actually like this guy. awesome. i live in atlanta. he lives in new york. i'm flying to see him next month. i'll let everyone know. i'm sure you'll be sitting on the end of your seats until then.
and that was new york for me. i f'ing love this city. bag pedlers and all. new york, here i come.
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4 comments:
Um....the fact that a guy you have only met once was BEGGING u to stay and offered to pay the flight change is a sure sign of his desperation.
Just my two cents.
thanks for the concern, "anonymous".....but you better not be talking shit about my man ")
Hold on, let's get back to the making out with bellboys thing. So--is this anyone who will carry your bags? I've got two free hands, y'know.
thanks for the offer, greg. if you wore a uniform, i might have to say yes. uniforms get to me. sailors, bellboys, exterminators, it's all the same to me.
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