|| The Smartass Guide To New York, Part 5
We spent much of today bumming around the city with an old friend. If you know someone who lives near New York, be sure to call them before you go. Walking around the city with a local really helps you to get the full experience. For example, you get to see the fearless way that they walk in front of speeding taxi cabs. Do not do this yourself. The driver will see the flip-flops you are wearing, identify you as a tourist, and send you straight to hell.
We took a subway up to the Bronx to see a Yankees game. This was very courageous. At this point, anyone entering the Bronx has only a fifty-fifty chance of getting out alive. It’s sort of like the Thunderdome.
Oh, and the Bronx is not a neighborhood. It is called a “borough.” Sort of like they say “uptown” instead of “north”. And “cocksucker” instead of “friend”. Use the wrong word around them and they will strip you down and sell you for parts.
Anyway, we tried to buy tickets to the Yankee game at the gate. Everything under $300 a seat was sold out. This is why using the Internet to save a place is smart. I won’t even spend $300 to see a baseball team that doesn’t suck.
(Or, to make things clearer to slackjaws who like the Yankees, they are a terrible baseball team, and people who like them are clods and ne’er-do-wells. Part of the reason I am writing this is to make friends.)
So instead, we took the subway to the south tip of Manhattan and rode the Staten Island Ferry. This ride is free and gives a very good view of the Statue of Liberty, that glorious, green bitch of freedom. Then we took the subway back north to Central Park and walked around there. It was a sunny day, so this entertainment was free and gave the chance to look at many attractive people with almost no clothes on. I recommend doing either of these things if you have a friend to talk to and don’t want anything interesting distracting you from your conversation.
We then had dinner at Devi. This is an unusual, innovative Indian restaurant in the Flatiron District. Most Indian restaurants tend to be cookie cutter copies of each other, with pretty much the same curries, chicken tikka masala, naan bread, and so on. This place was determined to do unusual exotic things with this fantastic cuisine. They had brain on the menu, which is always an excellent sign. It was very good and, like everything good in Manhattan, expensive.
We then went to Lincoln Center to watch South Pacific. This was a fantastic production, which, by the time you are reading this, is probably closed. Or it has transferred to Broadway, decayed for five years, and now stars Boy George and a random Spice Girl.
After the show, we took a subway south to the Village for dessert. Even though it was midnight on Wednesday, everyone was out having a high old time. That is because New York has an actual nightlife, unlike the dusty collection of shacks and strip malls you call your hometown. You can go there at any hour of the night and see fabulous stock brokers and models tonguing each other. Do not try to talk to them. You are an insect. Eat your five dollar cup of gelato and slink back to whatever miserable cubicle of a hotel room you managed to afford.
Still no celebrities. Maybe it’s me. Is it me? You can tell me if it is. I’m so ashamed.
Like computer games? A great fantasy adventure awaits you here.