Over Easy

“Two fried eggs on a hard roll with butter,” the large Hispanic man in front of me yelled. He was a big guy, probably a construction worker, who's flannel shirt seemed to go on for miles between the shoulders. The petit woman to my left, dressed very conservatively, almost too business like for a Friday in my opinion shouted “seven grain wheat, toasted, with two egg whites.”

So many damn choices, it seems highly unlikely that you would ever hear two identical orders in the same morning let alone back to back. But of course, on this morning it happened twice. Right behind the nicely dressed woman, an equally nicely dressed man in a double breasted, black pinstriped suit, ordered the exact same light starter to his morning.

Now I don’t know if the rest of America eats breakfast like New Yorkers do, only because who has the energy to make a “two egg omelet, with pepper jack cheese, red onions, and tomatoes,” the order from the young guy to my right, first thing in the morning? I’m lucky if I can manage to make a Carnation Instant Breakfast shake before I leave the apartment. A culinary process that entails opening the packet of powder, pouring it into a glass, and then pouring milk into that very same glass…

These delis are like finely tuned machines that only seem to get more efficient as more people fill in the lines. There are 5 or 6 guys behind the counter. All sporting tight latex gloves and all different types of hats, keeping their patrons at ease when it comes to cleanliness. A line forms in front of each of them, they shout “next” in a very soup-Nazi like voice. Nonetheless, the service is prompt, the choices are endless, and rightfully so, it is the most important meal of the day!

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Things that are just different in NYC:

*Women will carry bags from designer stores around for months with their day to day stuff in them…shoes, magazines, etc
*Asking how much someone pays in rent is totally legitimate and by no means rude
*There are still places that do not take debit
*Having a beer or cocktail happens more times than not
*People at restaurant counters say “stay or to go” instead of “for here or to go”
*Restaurants never, and I mean never forget to give you napkins and the necessary condiments
*People use a straw to drink out of soda can
*Snapple is everywhere
*There’s a good chance the woman you’re talking to makes more than you do
*Matinee movies are made up of 85% people by themselves
*We don’t drive, we’re driven (oh, that’s deep)


Thought I’d try something different today…

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He Shoots, He Scores!!!

Any party that starts at 4:30pm on a Tuesday afternoon is my kind of party. I, as I suspected wasn’t able to get there right at 4:30, but who wants to be the first person to show up? Not this guy… The space was amazing, it was held in the New AOL Time Warner Building, with brilliant views of Central Park and Columbus Circle.

The party was being thrown by a very large TV Network that knows how to entertain. They did an amazing presentation about up coming shows and brilliant new ideas that are going to change the media landscape as we know it. A number of people spoke to the crowd of a few hundred and in something I don’t think I’ve ever seen at any time of gathering, professional or not, everyone of the speakers was really, really well spoken. Each was different from the previous person to hold the podium before them, but all seemed successful in their endeavors.

After having a couple of cocktails and realizing that I didn’t see anyone else from my agency, and that I wanted to leave before the crowds started making a move for the doors. After all, who wants to be the last guy at a party? Not this guy…But before I was to call it an evening I saw my one network contact. She’s probably in her mid 40’s, very well put together, and just a pistol! She’s a fast-talker, but managers to sound so sincere while doing it. (No a small task for anyone who makes their living selling) “Hi there, I’m so glad you could make it!” She goes in for a kiss on the cheek, something I’m still not quite used to…That type of male to female professional greeting. I ok with it though, as long as it’s with a person I like that is…

“What’d you think?” She asked so bright eyed, like a little kid riding around the drive way for the first time without training wheels, as to say “how’d I do?” “Great, the whole presentation was so well done.” I meant it too. She went on to say “people are going to think I’ve had botox, because I’m not going to be able to get this damn smile off my face all night.” She was so proud of her work and was clearly passionate about it too. (Again, not something easily done for someone who makes their living selling)

“You’ve got to come meet someone. You’ve got to tell him, what you just told me!” She was so excited again. As she’s saying this, she grabs my hand, leads me across the room to meet one of the biggest of the big-wigs, and the presentation’s emcee. This guy was huge, at least 6’6…I didn’t know whether to shake his hand or box him out and try to go for the rebound. I gave him a firm grip, introduced myself, first and last name, a sign of strong personal presence (or so I’ve read). We continued to talk for a few minutes, when he says so my one of know two contacts, “oh, is this who you forwarded me the email from the other day?” “Yes, this is the guy.” Again, she excited. “Great, thanks so much for doing that” he said to me.

I was in the zone…I was speaking without having to put much thought into it. I may not be able to do fractions or large numbers in my head, but when it comes down to talking shop, mixed with a little bullshit, I get into my own little world. I guess it’s the equivalent to an athlete going into “the zone” and since I was never able to quite get there…I get this version. One I’m completely ok with…after all, I was on my court now.

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And the Gold Medal Goes To...

After two great games and two big buckets of beer it was time to make our way else where. Most of our group decided it was time to call it a night, but not my two guests…no way, they were in New York City and it would be my best friend’s birthday in matter of hours if it wasn’t already.

As it turns out, I don’t think we ever did a count down or even a happy birthday once the clock struck twelve. After the power hour that is your 21st birthday, the whole “it’s midnight, it’s my birthday” thing really looses its luster.

Although it was late and my two rock stars, in town for only a matter of three days and two nights, were probably a bit tired, they kept throwing them back. We made our way to a place I like to call “home.” No, we had not made our way back to my apartment, we had just walked through the ever annoying swinging wooded doors of Third and Long, my favorite bar in the city. As I hoped, the big man that runs the show was working the door. As this is my favorite bar in the city, this guy is one of my favorite people in the city. (I mean that in the most heterosexual way possible)

I introduced my good friends, we all exchanges a few pleasantries and then it was time for some more drinking. “Vodka Red Bull please.” I looked at my buddy, head cocked to the side, just like a dog when you say its name with a bit of confusion, as he ordered not just one for himself but one for me as well. After what seemed like million Miller Lites, it was “a good call” to make the switch…

The bar was pretty slow, so it gave the three of us time to bullshit. Something we could make an Olympic event out of we’re so damn good at it! We seemed to cover all subjects while sitting in the back corner of the bar. (A corner I didn’t even know existed) We talked about friends, old ones and new ones…The ones doing really well and then the ones who weren’t doing so well.

We moved from friends to relationships and then back to friends. After all, what’s better than talking about people when they’re not there? Come on, you know you’ve done it before. Hell you’re probably doing it right now. Between the wise cracks and “I heard so and so go really fat” comments, my friend did throw me a compliment that meant the world to me. We were discussing certain friends that are still riding the “I don’t know what I want to do, I don’t wanna grow up” rollercoaster…all the while letting mommy and daddy pay their admission to the fun park. He said he’s always had so much respect for me because I’ve always had such a strong work ethic and that I always busted my ass even though I may have not needed to. He’s a great guy, a great friend, and someone I know will achieve and obtain anything he truly wants.

When on the subject of relationships, we talked about the two of theirs’ and how well they work together. You know there are those couples that you’d rather hang yourself with a linen napkin than sit through a long night of lengthy conversations. We then moved on to my relationships…and that for obvious reasons was a fairly quick exchange. However, I did realize that I am happy flying solo right now. Having someone would be grand, but only if they see me for me, and would give me all that I would give them. I will admit I really like me, and until I find someone that makes me think more about them than me, until I want to and cannot wait to put them in front of myself, I’m better off being a one man show. I understand that may be a selfish, stereotypical twenty something view point, but it’s the truth and it’s me.

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A Friendly Reminder

Eat, drink and be merry. If there were a theme to this weekend, it would certainly have to be something very close to the statement just mentioned. It was a great weekend from the west side to the east side of the city. I had my best friend from middle and high school, as well has his girl friend come visit for a few days. It was his first trip up here since I’ve lived here…I mean it’s not like I’ve been here for almost two years…WTF!

They arrived early Friday morning while I was at work, but I managed to meet them for lunch near my office. I had them meet me at Spades, a Chinese place on 37th and 3rd avenue, that’s home of the best $7 lunch as far as I’m concerned. We ate quickly, and laughed in between each bite. His girlfriend is great. I really like her more every time I see her. They’re a great couple that’s so easy to be around.

Once the bill was dropped, it was obviously accompanied by three fortune cookies, we knew it was time to get moving. Both of my visitors had been to the city before (Thank God because doing every major touristy spot in the city is exhausting the first time, let along the 15th time) so I just pointed them in the direction of Grand Central Station and told them to enjoy the afternoon.

That night we decided to stay pretty close to the coup as there were some great college basketball games on TV. We started the night at a place called Duke’s on 19th and Park Avenue. Now don’t let the Park Avenue in the address fool you, this place has $2.50 Bud Lights and sells the bottom of the barrel beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon.

We were a big party, which meant we would have to wait a while to be seated as we were not the only group of people who decided that Duke’s would be a great place to watch the game. Luckily we did find a spot at the bar to call home. The three of us, were only a small portion of our party, family friends of my buddy as well as friends of there’s rounded out a party of 7.

After hearing “you’re table should be ready in about 5 minutes” 15 times, we decided it was times to change locations. The UF game would start 20 minutes and we knew we wanted to be some where with big screens and the sound on high. After throwing around a million ideas we decided (on my suggestion I might add) on Park Avenue Country Club. (Again, do not be fooled by the name, the serve pitchers of Bud Light as their house specialty.)

More Details to follow…

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The Manhattan 500

“Yo!” I shouted as I walked closer to the curb and raised my hand in the direction of building tops. I had just had a few drinks with friends and it was time to call it a night. I thought about taking the subway, there was a stop only a block away. It’s always cheaper, and sometimes faster than taking a cab in the city. However, it was late, I was tired, and so badly wanted to be magically wisped away landing directly in my bed.

I see a cab coming north on Layfayette, his light on, heading my way. He must have seen my extended arm because he swerved across 3 damn lanes of traffic, nearly causing a town car to take me out. The driver of the all too popular and black Town Car laid on his horn. I’m not talking about a quick beep either…I’m talking about the noise that comes from movies after a bad guy is caught in a high speed chase – the car crashes and his head is laying on the steering wheel causing the horn to hold a long, never ending monotone note.

Ok, I’ve seen that happen a million times before. No worries on my part. There’s nothing wrong with an aggressive cabbie. The only thing that means is that tmy fare will be less than say, if Miss Daisy was driving the cab. I opened the back door, slid across the seats and gave him the address. “I’m sorry, do you know how to get there, I’m new.” Now, it’s not like I live in the West Village and the streets have names not numbers. I live in Murray Hill. I even gave him cross streets too.

I told him to just head north and it he would need to make a right in about 20 blocks. At our first light, a cabbie pulled next to him and said “you’re trouble light is on” and I can only assume he was talking about his hazard lights. Well that sent my guy into a big panic. “I’m just going to pull over for a minute.” “No you’re not buddy, not with that meter running you’re not!” It was evident at this point in our journey together this guy was really, really new. Not to mention the cab smelled like dirty curry diaper.

So in a matter of seconds this guy was on his phone. His hands free phone of course because having a cell phone to your ear in New York is grounds for a ticket. I think they give these drivers hands free phones instead of a state issued driver’s licenses. So I start to think that this guy is probably not just new to a cab, and is maybe new to the country, because he seems to be avoiding all major driving rules and regulations. After another near miss with yet another black Town Car, and telling him to STOP four blocks short of my place out of the love I have for my own life and the intense hate I have for bodily harm…I was home.

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Standing Alone

Now we’re talking…Dinner for one please.  I have decided on this hump day, Mother Nature still not cooperating and my roommates all out of town or working very late, I should prepare a nice dinner for myself.  Well, nice in the sense that my meal would consist of my favorite bottle of wine ( It’s called Crios, it’s an amazing South American wine that usually retails for about $16, for those of you wondering) and a can of Campbell’s Select Italian Sausage and Pasta Soup.  Glamorous I know! Emerald has got nothing on me! And trust me I do see the issue behind buying a $16 bottle of wine and a $3.50 can of soup for dinner.

Sometimes we need little things like the players in my dinner theatre tonight to make our day (playing the lead role, Vino).  I will admit that over the past few days, I have been in what I would call a rut.  I’m not real sure why, I just know that I haven’t been myself.  I haven’t sprung out of bed, and sped through my day with the same tenacity that I usually like to leave as my calling card.  I don’t think there is a person, place, or object to blame, just something I the air maybe?  (God knows it could be the frigid temps and even colder stairs from people on the streets that are just as sick of winter as I am)

Last night I did manage to escape the cold for a brief hour or so.  I was under the lights as they say…Center stage for all those to see.  It was prefaced by “good luck, break a leg, good luck” from the others around me.  It was for the first time I had really gone on a stage of any type to perform and to perform with others.  I have spoken to crowds, some in the 1000s, with little angst.  That’s just talking, speaking, and being me…me. I can do that in front of a million people.  But tonight was different, it was in front maybe 20 strangers and I was part of an ensemble.  I was a piece of the comedic puzzle I was only praying the audience would find worthy of putting together.  

After a brief warm up, and few more “break a leg” comments and me thinking “do they really say that?” it was show time.  Most of my class members are actors/waiters, actresses/make up counter-salespersons, so they are much more familiar with the grounds of tonight’s performance.  The lights went up, and there we were, a group, all up there for the same reason.  

I fucking killed!  I loved it! I just wish it would not have gone by so fast.  It lasted for over an hour, but only a few minutes had gone by in my mind.  The crowd started in the dark and all too quiet, but grew brighter and much more involved as the show went on…

The final scene came to an end, my name was called to come back on stage and take a bow…I had never bowed before, you don’t bow after a killer presentation to the client, you don’t bow after making a great catch in flag football game, you just don’t.  That, even considering all the crazy request that came from the audience, might have been the most difficult part of the show for me.  Well, that and after it was all over I realized that no one I invited had shown up.  Granted I sent something out the day of, only because I received the info late myself, but I will admit it hurt.  Not a lot, but a bit.  Just one person I know would have made my night.  One, “you were amazing” from a familiar face instead of the compliments from friends of fellow cast members.  

I don’t now if I will go back for the next level of class.  I was thinking of taking a writing class instead…A decision I have to make in the next couple of weeks as spring sessions start soon…

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