Rockin' NYC- Schmat's side

Thanks, Rose, for telling the group about our NYC getaway. For the sake of journalistic integrity, I will share my memories as well.

According to my recollection, the initial communication about the trip was not a drunk phone call, but an email. Yes, it was a drunk email, but I only admitted that later. Regardless, many of my best ideas occur when I'm drunk, and if I ever have to enroll in a program, no substance abuse counselor will ever be able to convince me otherwise. The basis for the idea was wanting to see "The Book of Mormon". I had read about it and my first thought was, "Too bad I don't live in NYC." Later thoughts were, "I'm employed, childless, and have a birthday coming up. Why can't I go to NYC to see this freakin' show?!" When my initial attempt to get tickets failed, Fergie and I briefly discussed still going to NY but doing something else. The seed was planted (by me. in my own head), however, and I would settle for nothing less. I found tickets through a "secondary market", i.e. Stub Hub where smart people buy tickets and then sell them for profit. A splurge, definitely, but it set the foundation for an truly priceless weekend.

Thankfully, that lovely cab ride through Queens Rose mentioned added to the pricelessness of the weekend rather than causing our fiery deaths. Rose was observant enough to notice that every possible warning light on the cab's dashboard was illuminated. After a brief stop at our trendy and swanky oasis of a hotel, we headed downtown to 'ino for the perfect lunch. Rose forgot to mention that after lunch, we went to see Crystal, a chick doing palm readings a few doors down. The insightful and talented Crystal told me that while many people are attracted to me, something with my energy goes wrong. I told her, "Well, I hate people". She agreed that was probably the glitch preventing me from a more illustrious social life. She recommended that I should return to have my energy fixed, because my energy is at "like a 2" while really I should be at a "10". While I don't doubt Crystal's strong skills in palmistry and energy work, energy repair is just not something I'm going to pursue at this time. Rose's reading was much shorter. We couldn't determine if it's because Crystal used up all of her good lines on me, or if it was because Rose was trying to be all stoic and not give away any clues. We pondered briefly without coming to a conclusion, laughed because the chick's name was Crystal, and went on our way.


We headed back uptown, had gelato in Central Park, and admired a fabulous dead pigeon who's head had been chewed off somehow. Back to the hotel to freshen up and check in, we scoped out our tiny yet dope room. A stroll through the street fair led us to our restaurant in the theater district, where Rose made fun of me for thanking the maitre'd in Italian, which was clearly his native tongue. Dinner was a reasonable prix fix menu and a good cocktail.

We headed over to the Eugene O'Neill theatre to see 9 Tony Award Winning musical, The Book of Mormon. As I write this I still cannot fathom how awesome it was to see that show. Not only because it was a spectacular piece of theatre arts, but because I actually followed through on a ridiculous idea . It was my birthday, and as a result of my own actions, I was exactly where I wanted to be. I think I was experiencing an emotion known as happiness. I can't be sure though.

But I digress. This show was awesome. I absolutely loved every moment of it. Our seats were not bad at all- 4th row of a very slanty balcony in a medium sized theatre. My expectations were blown away completely. Everyone in the cast was amazing, there was a shout out to Rochester (the "Holy Land" of Mormonism) and Oprah was freakin' there. I now have a tiny crush on lead Andrew Rannells, who is probably gay, but judging from his Twitter feed we'd be best friends if we ever met.

Now, here's another discrepancy in Rose's account. I don't remember agreeding to 1 drink. Not only this night, my birthday in NYC, but ever. Rose started off slow, but I chugged along. Yes, we were totally out of place. We stood at a bar that was clearly not meant to be stood at, as there were no chairs, and it was a dance club. At our spot, we befriended a large black gay man named Mykonos, and his friend Cindy. They came to visit when they needed a cocktail, and were very supportive of our "stand at the bar" plan. We befriended the gay black bartender, who I named Reginald. He was horribly busy but always found time to serve us, and bought us a round at one point (very strong evidence that our stand at the bar plan was not that bad of a faux pas). There was another dude who bought me a drink, and Rose talked to some other guy who I thought was into her but he never made any moves, and there was this really tall hot man who I just stared at when he stood next to me at the bar. I would have loved to talk to him, but he didn't notice me because he was about 3 feet taller than me. It was pretty much the most fun ever. I have no idea what time we headed back up to our room. I had many delicious cosmos. I do remember putting "Thanks!!! XOXOXO" on the back of my signed credit card slip.

The next day was brunch, some wandering down 5th Ave, and me having to stop periodically due to some odd hip pain. We headed back to the hotel a bit early to take advantage of the outdoor patio, where we lounged on a day bed and read magazines. I also totallly destroyed one of the ladies rooms in the hotel lobby. This may very well have been how Rose caught her bug. I really had a disasterous problem for a few minutes there.

I needed to get myself into a cab around 3:30pm. After saying goodbye to Rose, I chatted up one last New Yorker. The hotel guy who hailed me a cab asked why I traveled so light. I explained I was only here for one night, to see The Book of Mormon. "Fuck! You got tickets? I so wanna see that, man!" He opened the car door for me, and suggested that I come back to NYC, to the Hudson Hotel for my next birthday, if not sooner. He looked at me with sexy time eyes. God, I love this city. Another cab ride of death got me to the airport in record time despite traffic, when my cabbie got behind an ambulance with sirens blazing, cutting off all of the other drivers who had appropriately pulled to the side of the road. It was a thing of ballsy beauty, and the perfect finale to the best birthday weekend ever. I tipped him well.