Of all the cities have travelled too, only New York and Paris frightened the fuck out of me. I have faced armed gangs, ghouls, the dead. But nothing scarier than the living to me, and please don't be cross for what I say. After all, there are 4.5 billion people, and I'm just one of them. There's a certain indescribable sadness in the voices of folks from New York when they speak. Is it the harsh acceptance of the reality of the East vs the casualness arrogance of the West coast? Who knows right. Personally, I found New York unequalled in the pride that floods through your American soul. When you walk her streets, what a city, what a Civilization, New York.!
So there I am staying in Madison Square Garden. The lights the multitudes of individual faces. The thousand of windows and all the people you can observe in their apts. In those mighty giant trees of steel they call skyscrapers, NYC dwellings. So on the first night, I absolutely have to discover two things at night, an Irish Only Cathoilc Bar and a NY City Dinner, like in Steinfeild. Like the one that Jerry and Geroge eat in show. Found the Irish Only Cathoilcs allowed bar in the Garden.
How do you know you're in the right bar? You can't go in unless you kiss the crucifix, the host at the door pushes in front of your mug. I make friends with the bartender immediately. Simply clicked, like we had known each other for years. I remember telling Stanley the bartender. Lol, where's the folks man. He stared at me and placed a shot glass in front of me, and warned me not to move away from glass. Don't go to the bathroom or even step out to have a cig. You stay here Toby okay? Sure Stan, I said kinda thinking omg weird dude.
So am drinking and chatting away with a few at the bar. It's like those old black-white movies in the 50's with people in a NY Bar smoking, talking and drinking. One point the bar is freaking packed, I mean packed. Feel a soft tap on shoulder turn, and two guys with curly hair in suits smiling, and one of them asks, can I buy you a drink? I remember that guy's left eye was shaking or like going back and forth left right. I had noticed that before. My ex-wife's mother was a schizophrenic. Both her eyes would go back and forth, left and right. So the guys buy me a drink, we make small talk. New Yorkers love their Yankees and Jets.
I look over the shoulder of the dude and observe the host with crucifix close the front door. When he looks at me, he smiles and does a little wave good bye. My hair stood on its head. Hahah, I still get goose pimples on the way he waved bye bye to me, and he just stood there blocking the door.
Then the guy with the shakey eye puts his hand on mine on top of the bar counter. I felt such an empathy, a unique bond. He looks right into my eyes and says let's go bar hoping Toby. I rise off my stool. I fucking can't stop myself. Am breaking one of my rules when drinking. Never leave you drink alone. Never leave with two men anywhere. As I get ready to leave. Stan, the bartender, reaches over the bar and loudly says, "the Californian is mine, fuck off".
The people around me get all quiet like, and everything goes slow-mo. I turn all mad to Stan and try to get his hand off my arm. I can't go Stan? fuck you man. He looks hard at me and whispers those fucks are cannibals. They gonna strangle you outside in alley and cut out portions of you and eat you, Toby.
I turn to look at the dudes, and they already out the door, and the guy holding cross leaves with them too. I turn to Stan, and he glances at my shot glass and winks at me. We became solid friends. I remember asking him why do you, Yorkers, have such a sadness in your voice. He looks at me kinda mad. Says first we aint no fucking Yorkers, we ain't a breed of dogs Toby. I was so embarrassed, hahah. He put his arm around my shoulder and went on
He said, because we're trapped here, we can never leave the city. Points at the UN and say we are the intersection and boarding station for humanity. But we don't want to leave our Lady ever. That's the sadness you hear Toby. We could go anywhere on Earth from La Quardia, but never will.
Three days later, I land in England, and was promptly run over and dragged by a tour bus in London near Nelson's Column.
So there I am staying in Madison Square Garden. The lights the multitudes of individual faces. The thousand of windows and all the people you can observe in their apts. In those mighty giant trees of steel they call skyscrapers, NYC dwellings. So on the first night, I absolutely have to discover two things at night, an Irish Only Cathoilc Bar and a NY City Dinner, like in Steinfeild. Like the one that Jerry and Geroge eat in show. Found the Irish Only Cathoilcs allowed bar in the Garden.
How do you know you're in the right bar? You can't go in unless you kiss the crucifix, the host at the door pushes in front of your mug. I make friends with the bartender immediately. Simply clicked, like we had known each other for years. I remember telling Stanley the bartender. Lol, where's the folks man. He stared at me and placed a shot glass in front of me, and warned me not to move away from glass. Don't go to the bathroom or even step out to have a cig. You stay here Toby okay? Sure Stan, I said kinda thinking omg weird dude.
So am drinking and chatting away with a few at the bar. It's like those old black-white movies in the 50's with people in a NY Bar smoking, talking and drinking. One point the bar is freaking packed, I mean packed. Feel a soft tap on shoulder turn, and two guys with curly hair in suits smiling, and one of them asks, can I buy you a drink? I remember that guy's left eye was shaking or like going back and forth left right. I had noticed that before. My ex-wife's mother was a schizophrenic. Both her eyes would go back and forth, left and right. So the guys buy me a drink, we make small talk. New Yorkers love their Yankees and Jets.
I look over the shoulder of the dude and observe the host with crucifix close the front door. When he looks at me, he smiles and does a little wave good bye. My hair stood on its head. Hahah, I still get goose pimples on the way he waved bye bye to me, and he just stood there blocking the door.
Then the guy with the shakey eye puts his hand on mine on top of the bar counter. I felt such an empathy, a unique bond. He looks right into my eyes and says let's go bar hoping Toby. I rise off my stool. I fucking can't stop myself. Am breaking one of my rules when drinking. Never leave you drink alone. Never leave with two men anywhere. As I get ready to leave. Stan, the bartender, reaches over the bar and loudly says, "the Californian is mine, fuck off".
The people around me get all quiet like, and everything goes slow-mo. I turn all mad to Stan and try to get his hand off my arm. I can't go Stan? fuck you man. He looks hard at me and whispers those fucks are cannibals. They gonna strangle you outside in alley and cut out portions of you and eat you, Toby.
I turn to look at the dudes, and they already out the door, and the guy holding cross leaves with them too. I turn to Stan, and he glances at my shot glass and winks at me. We became solid friends. I remember asking him why do you, Yorkers, have such a sadness in your voice. He looks at me kinda mad. Says first we aint no fucking Yorkers, we ain't a breed of dogs Toby. I was so embarrassed, hahah. He put his arm around my shoulder and went on
He said, because we're trapped here, we can never leave the city. Points at the UN and say we are the intersection and boarding station for humanity. But we don't want to leave our Lady ever. That's the sadness you hear Toby. We could go anywhere on Earth from La Quardia, but never will.
Three days later, I land in England, and was promptly run over and dragged by a tour bus in London near Nelson's Column.
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