First and foremost
Got back from NYC late last night. Much fun was had, despite my troubles in actually getting there.
My first flight got cancelled. The next flight, which was supposed to leave at 5:30 p.m. last Sunday, got delayed until 11 that night. I had been there since 2:30. For those inbreeds who can't count, that's 8.5 hours at the DFW airport. Also, for those of you who may still be slow even though your parents aren't related, New York is eastern time...while Texas is central...meaning it was midnight on the east coast when I left Texas.
I get to Newark at 3:30 a.m. local time. I had no fucking clue how far NYC was from Newark, New Jersey...and I feared this would be quite expensive. So I had to wait for the first bus departing at 4. It took a damned hour to get to Penn Station, where I made my shabby attempts at figuring out the subway. First, I asked the 'teller' (wtf do you call that guy?) in the booth which way I needed to go to get to the financial district. He asked, "You got a card?" I answered with a question, which is apparently a quick way to piss off a New Yorker, "I need a card?" He asked whether I wanted to transfer trains or not...and I asked if this was necessary. He said no. I retorted, "Then I guess not." When he replied, "Well I can't fucking guess for you..." I quickly walked away and bought a fucking metrocard, then commenced trying to figure out where the fuck I should go on the damned map. I wasn't getting anywhere with that fucking guy.
Unfortunately, there are always exceptions to the rule. On Monday morning at 5:30, they were fixing something on the subway stop at Wall St. I was unaware. Luckily, a postal worker who was going in for his shift so kindly helped me out. Once I was on what I thought was the correct train to get to Wall St., I'm standing in front of yet another map trying to figure out whether I should transfer trains or not. The postal worker walks up and says, "You're not from 'round here, are ya?" Obviously I didn't need to answer. First, he told me to put my camera away and to not take any pictures...at all. At least not until I didn't have my luggage with me. Apparently people get 'bum-rolled' if they're picture-taking with bags, because clearly they're just some tourist who wouldn't know what's what if a group of jerks came out of an alley and took everything.
So I get off the train at Fulton St. Little to my knowledge, Fulton St. intersects Ground Zero. After I stood there staring the huge crater in the ground that was once a couple of the tallest buildings in the world, I started my journey. I had glanced at a map before heading up to NYC just so I had some kind of idea as to where I was going. I'm a pretty laid-back guy, and I know I could probably find something eventually if I really needed to...so in my male stubborn ways, I didn't think to print a map. But at least I glanced at one momentarily.
I knew Pearl St. intersected Wall St. close to my hotel. Unfortunately for me, Pearl St. is the one fucking street intersecting Wall which didn't actually have a Wall St. sign posted. I'm sure few of you know the finacial district, but work with me here. After exiting the subway station, I knew I needed to go south a bit. When I get to Exchange Plaza, I figure it'd be a good time to head east again...since Wall St. is right around there. As stated, I knew Pearl intersected Wall, so I head back north on Pearl...which goes northeast, invariably fucking me. I passed Wall St. right up, and when I get to the Brooklyn Bridge (a good 10 blocks from Wall), I turned my ass around and asked a security guard where the fuck I was.
I got to my hotel room at 6:30 Monday morning. The training session started at 8:30. I watched TV for an hour, got ready, and went to work.
Once I finally got my ass to the hotel, I had a blast. Went out with a different group of people from our training every night. Only one of those was I not entirely drunk getting back to the hotel. Thursday night I went out with the New Yorkers, and that was more fun than I can express. We went up to Midtown right after work, sucked down pitcher after pitcher of half-price beer at The Fat Black Pussycat, and hopped to the next bar over at 8 (when happy hour was over). Andre (New Yorker since the age of 12), knew a bartender there - Rafael. Needless to say we got blitzed. Unfortunately, we didn't bother to eat dinner, so we all were drinking on an empty tank. Entirely inebriated, I didn't feel like going to a damned strip club at 11 when we left the bar...and I ventured back to the hotel on my own.
Scariest thing ever - I fell asleep on the subway when I was going back to the hotel. I was on there for about an hour and a half, in my suit, going around NYC in circles on the subway. I can't explain how freaked out I was when my eyes opened and I was still on there, and how grateful I am to not have gotten mugged.
And now, some pictures:
They had some issues with picking up trash.
I was drunk for most of these. Work with me.
Pretty sure this was the Chase building. They're all tall as all get out.
Blurred pic of Little Italy.
Broadway and Wall
Drunk pic of NYSE
This is the station where I got on the train and fell asleep.
Let Me (Them) Eat Cake, Ltd.
My first flight got cancelled. The next flight, which was supposed to leave at 5:30 p.m. last Sunday, got delayed until 11 that night. I had been there since 2:30. For those inbreeds who can't count, that's 8.5 hours at the DFW airport. Also, for those of you who may still be slow even though your parents aren't related, New York is eastern time...while Texas is central...meaning it was midnight on the east coast when I left Texas.
I get to Newark at 3:30 a.m. local time. I had no fucking clue how far NYC was from Newark, New Jersey...and I feared this would be quite expensive. So I had to wait for the first bus departing at 4. It took a damned hour to get to Penn Station, where I made my shabby attempts at figuring out the subway. First, I asked the 'teller' (wtf do you call that guy?) in the booth which way I needed to go to get to the financial district. He asked, "You got a card?" I answered with a question, which is apparently a quick way to piss off a New Yorker, "I need a card?" He asked whether I wanted to transfer trains or not...and I asked if this was necessary. He said no. I retorted, "Then I guess not." When he replied, "Well I can't fucking guess for you..." I quickly walked away and bought a fucking metrocard, then commenced trying to figure out where the fuck I should go on the damned map. I wasn't getting anywhere with that fucking guy.
Unfortunately, there are always exceptions to the rule. On Monday morning at 5:30, they were fixing something on the subway stop at Wall St. I was unaware. Luckily, a postal worker who was going in for his shift so kindly helped me out. Once I was on what I thought was the correct train to get to Wall St., I'm standing in front of yet another map trying to figure out whether I should transfer trains or not. The postal worker walks up and says, "You're not from 'round here, are ya?" Obviously I didn't need to answer. First, he told me to put my camera away and to not take any pictures...at all. At least not until I didn't have my luggage with me. Apparently people get 'bum-rolled' if they're picture-taking with bags, because clearly they're just some tourist who wouldn't know what's what if a group of jerks came out of an alley and took everything.
So I get off the train at Fulton St. Little to my knowledge, Fulton St. intersects Ground Zero. After I stood there staring the huge crater in the ground that was once a couple of the tallest buildings in the world, I started my journey. I had glanced at a map before heading up to NYC just so I had some kind of idea as to where I was going. I'm a pretty laid-back guy, and I know I could probably find something eventually if I really needed to...so in my male stubborn ways, I didn't think to print a map. But at least I glanced at one momentarily.
I knew Pearl St. intersected Wall St. close to my hotel. Unfortunately for me, Pearl St. is the one fucking street intersecting Wall which didn't actually have a Wall St. sign posted. I'm sure few of you know the finacial district, but work with me here. After exiting the subway station, I knew I needed to go south a bit. When I get to Exchange Plaza, I figure it'd be a good time to head east again...since Wall St. is right around there. As stated, I knew Pearl intersected Wall, so I head back north on Pearl...which goes northeast, invariably fucking me. I passed Wall St. right up, and when I get to the Brooklyn Bridge (a good 10 blocks from Wall), I turned my ass around and asked a security guard where the fuck I was.
I got to my hotel room at 6:30 Monday morning. The training session started at 8:30. I watched TV for an hour, got ready, and went to work.
Once I finally got my ass to the hotel, I had a blast. Went out with a different group of people from our training every night. Only one of those was I not entirely drunk getting back to the hotel. Thursday night I went out with the New Yorkers, and that was more fun than I can express. We went up to Midtown right after work, sucked down pitcher after pitcher of half-price beer at The Fat Black Pussycat, and hopped to the next bar over at 8 (when happy hour was over). Andre (New Yorker since the age of 12), knew a bartender there - Rafael. Needless to say we got blitzed. Unfortunately, we didn't bother to eat dinner, so we all were drinking on an empty tank. Entirely inebriated, I didn't feel like going to a damned strip club at 11 when we left the bar...and I ventured back to the hotel on my own.
Scariest thing ever - I fell asleep on the subway when I was going back to the hotel. I was on there for about an hour and a half, in my suit, going around NYC in circles on the subway. I can't explain how freaked out I was when my eyes opened and I was still on there, and how grateful I am to not have gotten mugged.
And now, some pictures:
They had some issues with picking up trash.
I was drunk for most of these. Work with me.
Pretty sure this was the Chase building. They're all tall as all get out.
Blurred pic of Little Italy.
Broadway and Wall
Drunk pic of NYSE
This is the station where I got on the train and fell asleep.
Let Me (Them) Eat Cake, Ltd.