Why'd You Take a Picture of That? NYC Edition

New York is a beautiful city. That will not be evident from the vacation photos I am posting below. Here are the things I chose to take a picture of during my latest trip to NYC:

Extremely crowded subway car, and here's a woman carrying a poodle like a sack of potatoes. The poodle seemed resigned to its lot in life.

Checked out the selection at Economy Candy.

I didn't even think they made candy cigarettes anymore! Political correctness has no place at Economy Candy.

And finally, snapped this photo out the window of the bus as we waited to head back to D.C. Just thought it was funny that this guy is standing the same way the girls in the drawing are standing.

OK, I didn't say it was hilarious, I just said it was funny.

Sorry to post your photo on the Internet, dude loitering outside porn shop. Hope this black bar across your face helps.

ETA: When I got home, I called my mom and offhandedly told her I wanted to move to New York. Here is a loose transcript of our dialogue.

Mom: What? It's expensive and hard to find a job there. And what will you do with all your stuff? Your orange couch?

Me: I guess I'll take it with me.

Mom: And what about when you get laid off in New York?

Me: Hmm... I can always move back home. Can I?

Mom: What about the couch?

Me: I'll put it in storage.

From GoCars to PediCabs: Apparently I Have No Use for Traditional Means of Transport

Survived Halloween in New York, phew!  My bus back to D.C. on Sunday was scheduled to leave at 4 p.m., so at 3:15 p.m. I left my friend's Upper West Side apartment and hauled my giant, unwieldy suitcase out to the street corner to hail a cab.  But I made a grave miscalculation: it was the day of the New York Marathon and everyone and their grandmother needed a cab.

All the cabs were full and no one was stopping for me.  Time ticked on, and I started to worry, really worry.  Megabus drivers take no prisoners and care not a whit if you miss your bus.  On the way to New York, my bus driver kicked riders to the curb left and right - first a girl without a ticket who begged to get on the bus, crying and accusing people of racism.  Then as we pulled out of the parking lot and sat a stop light, another late rider ran up.  "Can you open the door and let me in?" she asked.

"It's against regulation for me to let people in if we aren't at a stop.  Are you going to pay my mortgage if I get fired?  I don't think so!" the driver said as she gunned the engine and peeled out.

So it was in my best interest to catch this bus.  I could try the subway, but there was track work and I can barely carry my suitcase as it is, let alone down dozens of steps and through turnstiles.  Options seemed few and far between.

Then a kid in a pedi-cab pulled up.

He said he could get me there by 4 p.m., no problem and no worry that I had no cash, we could stop at an ATM.  What the heck, I thought.  Worth a try.  I called my friend who was going to walk out of her apartment and help me try to hail a cab.  "Never mind, I got in a pedicab," I said.  "You what?!" she said. 

So this poor guy pedaled 60 BLOCKS, towing me and my giant suitcase.  And he was going really, extremely fast, running red lights, dodging New York city traffic, at one point even picking up construction cones and rearranging them so he could get by.  There were a ton of other pedicabs out too.  They were all jockeying for position, it was straight out of Chariots of Fire.  I kept looking at the clock, counting down the blocks and trying desperately at each pothole to make sure my suitcase didn't fly out into the street.  I was also a little concerned about falling out into the street.  Pretty exciting stuff.

Guess what - made it on the bus with seconds to spare!  I think it might have even been faster than a car because he ran so many red lights.  I was really worried about the biker's health though, he must have burned at least a thousand calories.  When I came back from the ATM, he had gotten a hot dog from a street vendor and was scarfing it down.  Cars run on gas, pedicab drivers run on hot dogs?  "You totally deserve that hot dog," I said.

Also he was pretty much the coolest - he dressed as a gypsy woman for Halloween (his girlfriend went as Ghandi), biked across the U.S. in 9 weeks, and used the word "gusto" in conversation.  Lou, if you are out there, I'm so sorry, I don't think I tipped enough - thanks for the ride, dude!!!  Much obliged!

A Virginia Slims Halloween

Right before my friend and I headed out the door on Saturday, she asked "When do you think we will be too old to dress up for Halloween?"

"Never," I said.

Flash forward two hours and we're trudging through West Village in NYC on a drizzly, cold night with about 100,000 other people in all manner of costumes clogging the streets - it really looked like the night of the living dead. The bouncer at the bar we're supposed to go to says the club is full, and we can't get in, even though my friend totally knows the DJ. And every other bar has a line out the door.

"Remember when you asked when we would be too old for Halloween?" I said. "I think I might be too old."

But we ended up getting in to the bar and everything turned out fine, so I retract that statement. Halloween forever!  Especially Halloween in New York City.  I feel like you could say, "Nice Halloween costume," to a fair number of people there and they would say in response, "Halloween?"

We were standing on the apartment stoop, about to leave, opening our umbrellas, when a dude walked by wearing cowboy boots, shiny blue spandex pants and a blonde mullet wig.  "Hey," he called out.  "Does this costume make me look like the Unabomber?"

"No," I said, but then I thought about it.  "A disco Unabomber."

He laughed and I decided I heart New York, just like the t-shirt says.  I had the same thought last spring in NY when someone on a unicycle sped past me on the sidewalk.

Here's what I was this year:

A chain-smoking 70s tennis player. Complete with wooden racquet, some American Apparel socks and an absolutely perfect vintage tennis sweater purchased a thrift store in San Francisco. The rest of the stuff I already own. Is it a bad sign when your normal clothes can easily become a Halloween costume?

Reaching for a serve.

Editor's Note: I don't smoke.

The costume got good feedback from drunks on the street, the finest arbitrators of taste.  Choice comments: "Nice socks" (said with a lot of sincerity), "Rod Laver?" and my favorite, "Tennis!  I know that."  Yes, I dressed as Tennis, encompassing the concept and the sport in its entirety.

But at the party, I saw a guy dressed in old-school tennis wear, carrying an aluminum racquet, and actually smoking.  I was torn between thinking that this could be my soulmate, and being annoyed that my costume was so unoriginal.

Point and Shoot in San Francisco

Whether you wanted it or not, here's the last of my vacation photos:

Animal-style In & Out Burger.  The tourist couple from Woodbridge, Virginia sitting at the next table over deemed Five Guys better.

Must. Own. Hello Kitty. Vespa.

The "Full House" house.  They lived in quite a ritzy neighborhood, yet they didn't seem particularly affluent on the show.  Maybe they were house-poor?  Or as my roommate said, perhaps that's why like 500 people lived in that house.

Guess what neighborhood this is?

Another hint.

I think I love this city.

Architecture.

Mission Dolores Park.