Tour de NYC

After a Friday night full of drinks with friends that even included a bar fight, the rest of the weekend kind of paled in comparison. Due to the length of Friday’s evening my Saturday was pretty much shot…There is just something about waking up, feeling like you’ve been kicked in the head and having the perfect temperature in your room that makes it tough to get up and moving…

Now I hate being lazy like that, I do, you just feel like you wasted a day and I did! That being said when it came around time for dinner and an invitation for dinner down in Little Italy came about I couldn’t resist. Especially considering the fact that most of the people I would be dining with were part of the debauchery one night earlier.

My roommate and I were the first to arrive on Mulberry Street, the heart of Little Italy as it was just about the perfect night to grab dinner in a great little area I very rarely see. It is literally one Italian restaurant after the next, one after another, all serving the same stuff. I’ve often made the joke that they’re really all connected and there is just a super kitchen that prepares meals for them all. Almost like Disney World, a mega super sized, overaly detailed magical place that is connected by underground tunnels.

As this is probably not the case, we decided on a place that was busy but not crazy. There were 7 of us which made of the perfect number of people for a nice large circular table. Our server was terrible as he managed to get about as much wine on the table as he did in our glasses. Granted, he looked like he could have played an older character in the original Godfather, 25 years ago!

The food was OK, but the company was great. Going out to dinner with groups of friends is something I wish I did more often. It’s just a great feeling to be surrounded by people who are in similar spots, similar places in life as you are…We had apps, then entrees, bottles of wine with both, and finished with coffee. It was like all of a sudden I was a grown up (having espresso was something I’ve been doing for years, but never had friends that joined me) and so was the rest of the table. It was a very scary, yet very comfortable and welcoming feeling.

As Saturday night was much tamer than Friday I woke up Sunday with some energy and a crazy idea…It was nice out almost too nice to go the gym so why not take the old bike out around town?. Now, when I say the ‘old bike’ I’m not just using that as a general term, it literally is an old bike I bought at a street fair a few years ago.

The plan was to bike down the East River from my Murray Hill apartment all the way around lower Manhattan and end up in Battery Park for the few sections of the NY Times I had jammed into my bag. Before the journey really started I stopped by a bike store for some fresh air in the tires. So with my bag full of reading material and the sun on my face I was off.

I had the FDR on my right and the East River on my left as I continued to make my way downtown. There are a lot of parks, fields, and tennis courts once south of 14th street. I know this because once I made my way past Houston (that’s House-ton, not Houston as in Texas) I decided to drive through a small puddle rather than try and fight some joggers for the dry patch on the path. As I came to the other side of this innocent body of water I noticed something was wrong with my rig, I had not a single lick of air in the back tire. I mean none, I was riding on the rim. (See what happens when you try to exercise?).

So after kicking and screaming (there was a soccer game going on next to me, I don’t have a short temper) I started the trek back to my apartment. This time, FDR on the left East River on the right…I stopped about half way to read the few sections I had grabbed out of The Times before I left. It was by far the best part of the trip although reading the paper riverside with the breeze going was not the easiest thing in the world…None the less it was a nice little Sunday and part of a nice little weekend!

Thanks for listening