Tuesday, September 17, 2013

A Hellish Night that won't Die...

This particular night happened about 2 months after I moved to NYC.  The girl mentioned in the story has been featured in a couple of earlier stories in this blog but I will change her name here to be nice... (although believe me she does not deserve it).

So on a random Friday night, Tara asks if I would be interested in grabbing a glass of wine or two. She lives in Brooklyn but was willing to drive into the city and go out somewhere in my hood.  She said she didn't want a crazy night but didn't want to sit at home by herself either.  Understandable.  So I said, "Sure." So we went to Auction House.  The Auction House is a really interesting lounge/bar that has the weirdest rules to get, such as you have to be over 25 and not wearing fur. They stick to those rules too. I have seen it.  Also, it has this darkly lit, velvet curtains, naked Victorian lady paintings vibe.
So Tara and I are having a glass of wine at the bar, just talking and she wants to go outside to smoke.  We are standing outside and this guy walks up and just starts talking to us like he already knew us.  Like we were in the middle of a conversation with him and he had just walked away for a second. It was the weirdest thing.  I kept looking at him, trying to figure out what the heck was going on and if Tara did, in fact, know this guy. Tara just seems to be going with it.  By the way, Tara has a boyfriend that she lives with.  So I am just standing there and they are talking about Halloween (which was coming up), places to go and costume ideas.
He asks if he can buy us a drink and Tara agrees.  So he comes inside the bar with us.  Tara and him are talking and I am just standing there still trying to figure out exactly what is going on.  He then turns to me and says, "What is with your cunty attitude?" Full disclosure, I hate this word. I think it is one of the worst words you can call a woman.  I hate even repeating it. But, I think for the full impact of this story and the way I felt this night, it is necessary.
Now I am completely taken aback by this comment.  I have no idea what to say. I have said next to nothing to him and definitely did not deserve that.  So Tara acts like it is no big deal and I just say, "You need to apologize because that was completely uncalled for." He just laughed it off and Tara and him kept talking.
Now I know what you are going to say. I know, I know, I should have just walked out right there, but I didn't. So anyway he starts talking to me and when I am unresponsive, he asks if I am still mad.  I told him that I didn't want to talk to someone who uses that kind of offensive, oppressive language.  He said it wasn't offensive or oppressive. He said, "It isn't like women have ever been oppressed."  I said, "Really? Because it is my understanding that until pretty recently women were seen as property and did not have the right to voice."  He didn't have anything to say to that. Now I am not sure that I consider myself a full on feminist but frankly, I am pretty sick and tired of being a woman that constantly has to justify her education and that she IS, in fact, just as smart and capable as a man.
Then he started talking about the holocaust.  Why? I have no idea. So I said that I had actually read a lot about it and found it an interesting piece of history that hopefully we can all learn from and learn to accept people's differences. He then said that, "You need to get off of your liberal soap box and stop being anti-Semitic."
Huh?
Me? Liberal? Anti-Semitic? What?
So then I tried to walk away and he tried dancing with me. I said, " Please leave me alone. You are clearly interested in my friend. Why don't you go talk to her?"
Tara at this point had wandered off somewhere else, leaving me with this guy.  He responds with, "Why can't you believe that I like you?"
Huh?
So confused.
I said, "Maybe because you called me the c-word, and anti-Semitic."  So again I tried to walk away to find Tara and he grabbed my arm.  I started raising my voice, telling him to let go. The bouncer comes over and asks what the problem is.  I told him that I was trying to walk away but he grabbed my arm and wouldn't let go.  The bouncer then tells me that we didn't stop we would both be  kicked out. Seriously? I am trying to walk away, a strange guy grabs my arm and won't let go and I am going to get thrown out on the street with said guy. Yes, that sounds like an assault waiting to happen. Thanks. I did tell the bouncer that I am trying to walk away.  The bouncer did tell the guy to leave me alone and I walked away. I am assuming he left.
So then I found Tara talking to a big group of people, flirting with a guy who clearly had a girlfriend because she was giving Tara the worst looks.  As soon as I find her and try to smooth over that situation, she walks away again.  So I am left with that girlfriend yelling at me. Jeez. I just walked away again. At least the girl let me.  Did I mention that Tara has a boyfriend?? A really nice one too.
So then when I extricate myself from that situation, I find her talking to two old dudes at the other end of the bar. Can I just say by this point I am mentally exhausted? I really just want to go home.  I do not want to be following after a 35 year old woman, cleaning up her messes.  So those old guys are flirting with her and when I walk up they ask if would like to join them to partake of some cocaine.  I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.  Of course, I politely declined the offer. I actually think Tara thought about it.  Somehow we eventually were standing outside the bar with these same guys because she kept talking to them. Why would you let a little cocaine offer deter you? The one who offered was asking Tara to come home with him.  She got frustrated that he wasn't leaving her alone and finally acknowledged that she does, in fact, have a boyfriend and proceeded to scream, "I am not going home with you. I am not going to sleep with you. I have a boyfriend."  Well, that got him and his friend's attention and they took off.
So just when I think this evening is finally over, these three people approach us. It was a girl and two guys.  Something about the look of this group gave me the creeps.  Nothing I could put my finger on.  There were around the same age, they were dressed normal but still...
Anyway, they started talking to us (about what I have no idea) and then try to convince us to come over to one of their apartments, which was supposed to be around the corner.  It is sometime between 3 or 4 am. Not only has my night been shitty and completely draining, I am exhausted and I need to let my dog out.  So I try to make excuses but they aren't taking no for an answer.  It also seems like Tara wants to go to their apartment.  So I say I have to let my dog out. They all walk with me to my apartment.  On the way there, we got on the subject on why my night has been so bad so I told them about it.  Tara chimes in and says, "You are only offended because you are from Missouri.  People don't get offended by the c-word here."
The way she said it was like I was this complete and total hick that was being a baby.  After that I let my dog out and let them all know that I was going to bed.  I asked Tara repeatedly if she was ok and told her she could stay with me.  She insisted she was fine and that she wanted to go to these people's apartment.  There was nothing more for me to say or do.  She is a big girl.  Side note: I didn't think Tara was that drunk.  I only recall her having 2-3 glasses of wine but there were plenty of moments where I didn't see her.  She seemed to go from completely fine to wasted in the blink of an eye.  So I went home and fell asleep.
The next morning I heard from her saying she walked with those people for a couple of blocks and then decided that she wanted to go home.  She said it took her almost an hour to find where she has parked her car.  Then when she was driving, she hit something and messed up her car so bad that it couldn't drive so she had to take a cab and have her car towed.  When I told our mutual friend this story, she told me that she hit a cab! Ugh. I decided after that night that for many reasons she was not a good friend to have.  She didn't stand up for me with that loser, she made fun of me, and got me into crazy situations.  She is just too much drama for me.  I actually ran into again much later but that is a story for another time.  By the way, she is still bat shit crazy!
-S
P.S. Sorry it is a long one. :)

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Typical vs. Rare Actual Commute on the Always Pleasant Subway

So here is an example of a typical commute to work:
Usually I make it to the 2-3 blocks to the subway uneventfully (now I live 1 very steep avenue further away, boo hiss).  Most likely I will be listening to music on my iPhone to encourage myself to walk faster and to blissfully ignore any potential deterrents or unpleasant disturbances (e.g., panhandlers, crazies, construction workers, just overly horny men in general, etc.)  Next, I am standing on the platform.  I guess I left out the fight through the turnstile, while people are trying to come out the same said turnstile. You just have to barrel your way through or you will be standing there forever.  Also, have your subway card ready. Seriously. Did you just walk all the way to the subway station and not realize you were actually going to take the subway? Was the walk down to the dank, smelly and ridiculously humid subway station sound like a fun thing to do at 9 am on a Tuesday? Just checking.
Check the next train to come on the countdown clock.  (I am fortunate to live near the 4, 5 and 6, which has the countdown clocks. It helps to relieve frustration to know when the next train is coming or not coming.)  Ok. Next train 2 mins.  Constantly look down the tunnel (while trying not to stand to close to the edge) to see if the train is coming yet.  Eye everyone around you. Size them up.  Get a real good look.  Can you take them if it comes between you and a coveted seat?
Train is coming, find your spot where you are certain to be strategically placed right to the right or left of the train car door.  This is all a crap shoot of course if for whatever reason the trains are delayed or you just get to the station at the wrong time and everyone is just smashed into the car together like sardines. Good times, good times.

I kid, I kid. (Not really.)

Ok. Here was my actual commute one morning:
On the platform, blissfully minding my own business, listening to music while playing a game on my phone.  The train pulls up.  The platform isn't crowded and neither is the car, so it is a good sign.  Wait for people to get off the train.  The girl who was waiting on the platform with me, stood on the other side of the door and then did not wait for people to get off.  She practically ran to get a seat.  I mosied on into the train conceding defeat to get the pole to hold on to.  I swear she kept staring at me triumphantly.  Like mocking me that she got a seat and I didn't. If that is the best thing that happens to her today, I feel sorry for her.  I just have to really feel bad for someone who poses a ridiculous competition with an unknowing, and unwilling person.  Seriously? Good job. Your life must suck if you feel the need to gloat to a complete stranger who was even trying for the seat.
So then I safely arrive at Grand Central and go to my normal coffee shop, Financier.  I swear to all that is holy, when I walked in at the end of the line there was a fairly dirty man awkwardly pacing.  Then I noticed him slip one of the fancy, expensive packages of pastries into his Ricky's bag.  Then he awkwardly moved around again and then just walked out.  I wanted to say something but what if I was wrong? I wasn't 100% certain of what I saw.  The more I thought about it, the more I seemed sure that I had in fact witnessed a mostly likely homeless man steal a box of overpriced pastries.  And the other funny thing was no one else seemed to notice either.  Not the works or any of the many people in line.  To be fair though, we are talking about people dying to get their morning caffeine fix and staring at a counter of pastries.  Obviously, that is much more important/pleasant than the dirty/homeless man pacing awkwardly.

Kisses.
-S
P.S. 
On another note, last night I was at Molly Pitcher's having a drink with Jewel and none other than Stefan was sitting at the same end of the bar.  Remember him from like the most awful, awkward date ever when I first moved here???? He stayed at his part of the bar for awhile too.  It seemed like he might've recognized me and been trying to get my attention but I refused to look in that direction at all.  I am not as nice as I was 2 years ago. He does not want to try that again. Trust.


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

A new first: 2 numbers in 1 night.

So a last month, it was a good friend's birthday. Let's call her Mary. So she had a happy hour at Bryant Park Cafe for her friends.  Even her mom came and she was super cute. ;) Bryant Park Cafe is an open air outdoor bar facing Bryant Park and right up next to the New York Public Library (the one that is featured in the movie Ghostbusters).
So we are having a good time drinking and someone (I think it was Jamie) had brought a couple of containers of mini cupcakes from Baked by Melissa.  They were delicious but so many of them! An entire tray of like 12-20 cupcakes were uneaten and none of Mary's friends seemed to want them.  So I decided to help get rid of them. I tried to use them to help a couple of friends go up and talk to guys but while we were trying to decide who to talk to a guy came up and asked for a cupcake.  He was cute, usually my type but still it is rare for guys to just walk up to a girl in NYC, especially a girl with large group.  I told him they were not free.  He asked what the price was and I told him he had to do jumping jacks.  He looked like he was seriously about to start doing jumping jacks and then he said, "Well I really only came over to talk to you and I don't really want the cupcakes." Well played, sir.  He seemed really sweet although maybe trying a little too hard and just saying the things that he "thinks" that I want to here. Like for a 26 year old guy, he was telling me how his last couple of girlfriends had been significantly older than him and also that he liked to cuddle and watch chick flicks. And I am pretty sure that he said something about crying at certain movies. I don't know why guys think girls want to know or hear this. I know I don't. If I found out these things by spending time with a guy that would be ok, but to declare these things to a total stranger just makes you sound weird. Like it is a banner saying, "I am full of shit and I just want you to like me." I don't know. Maybe I am cynical but there it is. Anyway after telling me all about himself and his sensitive ways, he asked for my phone number. I gave it to him because let's be real, it is expensive to eat in this city.  Haven't heard from him since that night.  Why do the whole production? Of coming over and force feeding me these lines only to not go through with it? Doesn't that exhaust you? Or was the whole thing to see if he could even get my number? I just don't understand it. I mean, I don't really care that he never called me or asked me out BUT I just don't understand people who make considerable effort only to not follow through. I can't think of anything that I would make that kind of effort on just to not do anything with. I don't like wasting my time. Anyway.
Then Jamie and I were ordering some food at the bar and these two guys came up and starting talking to us (really good night!).  These guys were super young.  One of them was really cute, he looks a little like James Franco but not his crazy, scruffy homeless self.  His name was Joe.  The one's name was Joey. Hilarious, I know. It was Joe's 23rd birthday.  Turns out he went to the same college as Jamie. Small world.  They were really nice but really young.  They asked how old we were and Jamie chimes in really quickly with 28 (she's not 28) and therefore, I couldn't say 30 so i just echoed that I was 28, as well.  New experience for me.  I have never before lied about my age. Well, not made myself younger anyway. I mean I lied when I was in high school to say I was older.  Joe asked for my number. He did text me later that week wanting to hang out for that Sunday and we agreed on it but when it was Sunday, neither of us texted each other and haven't heard from him since. I am pretty sure that with him being 23, he has the attention span of a gnat.  I think I am just more excited that I had two different guys ask for my number in one night.
-S
P.S. Currently, I am embarking on a new adventure of naughty/dirty texting with a boy who does not live in this city.  It is really fun to torture him as best I am able. Will fill you in on the specifics on a later post.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

People and their Backpacks

So pretty much every other person on the subway wears a ridiculously large, filled to capacity backpack on the subway and usually during rush hour but of course this can be at any given time of day.  It is obviously more annoying during rush hour because of the already lack of space.  So I have noticed that these people that have these backpacks on appear to have had their short-term memory completely short circuited.  These people either do not remember packing these backpacks within an inch of its life and/or don't remember putting on said backpack.  Or better yet just can't seem to feel or notice the significant weight on their shoulders.  But what they do manage to accomplish is barreling through the sardine-packed subway car as if they don't have the weight of their entire apartment on their back. I guess it is a talent.  What is not appreciated is being the receiving end of a slap in the face, body check or resting place for this monstrosity.  Yes, I literally have had someone use my arm, shoulder, or purse to carry some of the burden of their backpack. Hmmm, I thought it was weird that my purse suddenly got 10 times heavier...
You try to wiggle out of it but it is a futile effort.  The worst is when they quickly whip their turtle shells around to smack you in the face either with the actual backpack or whatever dopey knickknack, key chain, or strap they have hanging from the bag.  I think I can safely say that I have never been on the subway with a backpack. Now you might be thinking, ahh poor students. They have all of these text books and look how far they have to carry them. NO. It is not all students. I would go as far to say that a majority of these offenders AREN'T students.  These people are professionals and people of all ages, sizes, etc.  What about the MTA's constant reminder to take your F***ing backpack off to be courteous to other riders??? Oh yeah, you lost them at courteous.

Sorry it is late and super short. Just got back from a wild trip to Vegas. The entries about Vegas will be a complete saga. In short, it was absolutely crazy.

-S
Tip: Moving in NYC is exhausting, expensive and impossible. Just don't do it. Seriously. It is enough to drive someone to drink or to the loony bin (or both).

Monday, August 19, 2013

A Penn Station Proposal

Here is a short one.  Things have been crazy for me because I am in the middle of moving apts and packing for a trip to Vegas. I will definitely include the craziness that has been my moving experience within Manhattan. It will make you laugh, cry and leave you with a general sense of how can all of this happen to just one girl?

Anyway, Jamie and I were on our way to Long Beach a couple of Sundays ago.  Without a car, you have to catch the LIRR (Long Island Railroad) at Penn Station.  We were both preoccupied with buying our tickets for the 11:45 am train and getting a large coffee and some breakfast ASAP.  Originally the plan was to leave at 10:45 am but of course we went out last night. I digress...

We were walking through Penn Station and a man approaches Jamie asking if he could suck her toes.  Now I don't know if he complimented her toes prior to asking for such a request.  Does he walk up to women all of the time asking this?  I mean not to insult Jamie's toes, I am sure to every foot fetishist they are exquisite but WTF?  So when Jamie ignored him and kept walking, he proceeded to follow us.  As soon as I heard the request my eyes bugged out of my head and of course my instinct was to run.  So then he tells Jamie that he's serious and makes the offer more enticing with a promise of a payment of $20.  I have no idea how Jamie refused.

So there we are on the escalator with Jamie's toe lover with nowhere to go.  Since it is a Sunday, no one is following the proper escalator protocol (stay to the right to stand, pass on the left) and the escalator is a jam packed free-for-all.  We are trapped like rats.  I know I have a completely mortified look on my face.  Then he starts talking to me. He asked if we were sisters and I said no. Then he asked if we were going to the beach (we were wearing swimsuits and cover ups), I said no again.  Finally, by this time we are reaching the end of the escalator (THANK GOD!!).  I pretty much ran off, dragging Jamie behind me before she was foot-napped.

It seems when Jamie and I get together there are situations in which I have to constantly run away, dragging her with me.

-S

P.S. On day 2 of a juice cleanse. I am afraid it takes carbs, cheese, and most likely alcohol to keep me even remotely funny or entertaining, so I apologize.

Monday, August 12, 2013

People and their dogs...

Maybe this attitude is limited to the Upper East Side or all of Manhattan, not sure BUT these people are unhinged.  I have had more dog owners stand there with their dogs like they are inviting Maverick to come over to meet their dog and I approach slowly, looking at the owners in the eye so I don't catch them off guard and then all of a sudden, the fluffy 9 lb. Maltese turns into Kujo, nearly biting Maverick multiple times.  The owner just stands there letting it happen.  The owner doesn't even remotely try to control their dog.  Are they so rich that they don't care about being sued? How about about a freaking warning? I happen to love my dog and wouldn't like for him to be hurt by your fluff ball with an inferiority complex.  If Maverick ever even tried to act like that, I would have the decency to be mortified and we would both be running away with our tails between our legs. Jeez. I find it very hard to believe that any of these multiple instances are the first signs of aggression with these dogs.  You should stop spending money on clothes for the dog and think about obedience training.
Also, I think it is ridiculously rude, not to mention illegal, when certain people consistently (okay every time) let their dogs outside without a leash.  Especially the ones who don't mind their owners and just wonder aimlessly, usually up to me and my dog without so much as glancing in their owner's direction.  Okay, maybe I am a little jealous that I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of controlling Maverick without a leash but then again why is your off-leash dachshund following me down the street away from you.  Now I love my dog and most of God's creatures BUT I am only responsible for my own dog.  Believe me, I have considered getting another dog so that Maverick can have a friend but that is just much more than I can handle.  So when your dog is following me down the street, it is frustrating because I don't want to be responsible for your dog (imagine the whiny voice), and I shouldn't have to be.  So then I have to stop walking with my dog and wait for you to figure out your dog has wandered away from you  (so, sorry you had to interrupt your conversation but come and get your dog)!

Also, I would like to know why people have bought and use strollers for their dogs. Do they have a medical condition that prevents them from walking? Did they inherit the laziness from their owners? What is the deal?

On a more practical note, the other day I had to buy Maverick some more dog food and they stopped making the kind that he had been eating. So I bought some random kind but the only bags they had were either a 10 lb. bag or a 35 lb. bag.  10 lb. is too little and I would be constantly buying dog food but there is no way I can carry a 35 lb. bag home by myself. Plus their delivery fee is half the amount of the dog food. So I whined and the lady at PetSmart said I could take a shopping cart with the bigger bag of dog food. That was fun with all the dirty and weird looks and what is even funnier is when people are completely indifferent. Then on the way to take the cart back, I put Maverick in the cart. He didn't like riding in the cart. I forgot to get a picture of him in the cart (which was the cutest) but I did get proof that I did, in fact, walk down the street with a shopping cart and a large bag of dog food. Just another day in ole NYC. No big deal.

-S
P.S. So now I have a 35 lb. of dog food that Maverick does not like. FML.
He seriously does not appreciate all of my effort.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Runaway cabs and a fitting end to a crazy night... (Part 3)

This is the third part to the crazy evening in the last two posts.  In NYC there are no shortage of crazy cab stories. I have plenty. I will have plenty more as long as I continue to live in this city.  This is just one...
So it was taking Jamie, Jamie's friend & I a really long time to catch a cab.  Even after all the helpful banter from the random bipolar/psychopath. Her friend finally came through and secured a cab.  Catching a cab at 3 am in Manhattan, especially somewhere popular on a Friday or Saturday night is like trying to catch a fish without bait or a pole and in the dark. (Crap my Midwestern roots just poked through.)
When we got into the cab, we informed the driver that there would be 2 stops (totally a common thing in NYC) and the cab driver informed us that he couldn't do that.  We were like well there are still 2 stops. The cab driver started going on and on about how he had to finish his shift by a specific time or he would be fined.  I have no idea if this is true or not.  We tell him that the first stop is on the way to the second stop and it won't take any extra time.  He argues something about not being able to turn left on 1st ave.  So we tell him he doesn't haven't to turn left because he can just drop Jamie and her friend off at 1st and keep going straight to FDR to go uptown.  Hell if it will save you from being fined, Mr. Cab Driver, we don't even need to stop. Let's just open the door and push them out. Save even more time. Since you are being SOOOOOO nice.
So problem solved, right?
Ha! This entire exchange was happening while the cab was careening between lanes, doing wheelies on turns, etc.  It was some very reckless driving, near accidents, and all while he is arguing with us and telling us how he is going to be fined.  He relentlessly let us know how he was going to get in trouble.  Then when he dropped Jamie and her friend off (or like I said they didn't get the door shut before he peeled off again), he was barreling down the Upper East Side along the FDR bitching the whole way.
Then he says something to me to the affect of asking me if I could be dropped off at 96th St, which is a good 8 blocks from where I asked to be dropped off at.  I was texting Jamie the whole time and told her what he was asking.  She told me to tell him that it was illegal to drop someone off other than where they were asking and if he didn't comply that we had his medallion number and would report him.  So I  repeated this to him and he just shook his head and grumbled some more.  I am wearing heels and not comfortable ones either!
Now here is a moment of weakness for me.  This entire hellish car ride in my head I was indignantly saying, "This guy is definitely not getting a tip from me!" I was adamant in my determination BUT then I started to feel bad about the possibility that we could have been getting him in trouble and at least he was nice enough to pick us up?!?!

I know, I know. Still a naive Midwesterner at times and sometimes I am a complete sucker... I now realize: NO, it was his job to pick us up.  When he picked us up, he was agreeing to take us where we wanted to go.  PERIOD. We were paying him for a service and he was ungrateful, argumentative, condescending and reckless.

Alas, I did tip him only $1 but I promise to stand my ground next time.

You live and learn, kids.
-S