Pretend for a moment that you can hear Sarah Jessica Parker’s voice as Carrie Bradshaw.
“New York City is home to some amazing places and amazing people! If you have a taste for something, then there’s probably three restaurants that offer it within a few blocks of wherever you happen to be. If you want to see something out of the ordinary, just stop in front of Madison Square Garden where all sorts of colorful folks can be found yelling at whatever the little voices in their head are telling them is wrong. And if you want to go shopping, there’s always Macy’s, even during a holiday like July 4th! It brings out mobs of shoppers, especially in 98 degree weather, and also one Detroit-based author who didn’t appreciate being surrounded, pushed, prodded (though he may enjoyed that), and otherwise inconvenienced by shoppers while he tried to locate his husband. In fact, if you listened–and you didn’t even need to listen carefully–you could sometimes hear his voice above the others.”
Get the (expletive) out of my (expletive) way! (expletive) people have nothing (expletive) better to do on an (expletive) holiday? This is (expletive)!
Okay, now you can stop imagining Sarah Jessica Parker’s voice.
I’d left the ridiculous heat wave in Detroit and flown to New York city to experience their heat wave. It pretty much felt the same, so if you were ever wondering about that mystery, it’s solved. (See, Dorien Grey? I can solve mysteries, too!) The cab ride to the hotel was uneventful minus the eight times the cab driver honked at someone in his way. I’ve really come to appreciate them. I picked up my room key at the lobby, dropped my luggage off and then set off to meet up with Pookie. He was shopping. In Macy’s. With a few thousand other people. All of them annoying.
We walked out a hundred dollars poorer and I convinced him the only thing that would dull my teeth and tongue after an excursion like this was lunch. He agreed. Wise of him. Now, my little brother, Little Eddie, had taken me to a Korean chicken place called Bon Chon two days after the hubs and I got married back in February. I’ve been wanting to take Pookie there ever since and I finally did!
Here’s what he was thinking: Chicken? Really? Because that’s exciting. Ooh, chicken. Yes, and how often do you see me eat chicken? How often do I tell you the idea of eating chicken gives me wood? You know how often? Let me tell you. NEVVVVER. All the places in Manhattan we can go and he wants to take me for chicken? You big spender, you. This is why you’re the bottom. You’re supposed to listen to what I want. I’m the top. I dominate! I rule! And…and…huh. I say goddamn! This is good!
Yes, folks. You read it here. He LOVED it! He loved it so much that he suggested we go back there on Friday for lunch since we were leaving early on Saturday to fly back to our respective places of residence. He even apologized for thinking he was going to hate it. Like I would ever take him to something he’d hate? That would be karaoke, which he refused the entire time we were there. That’s okay. Little Eddie, Mark and I will drag him there kicking and screaming one day.
We ate so much that we didn’t eat anything else the entire rest of the day, which was okay by me. I haven’t found a Korean chicken place in Michigan and when I asked the young lady who waited on us about it, her reply was “Well, you live in Michigan.” Okay, she has a point. I agreed with the Pookster that we should attempt to walk some of it off. Unfortunately, there were so many people out heading towards the fireworks event that we finally gave up after an hour, called it a night, took a nice, long cool shower and acted like a couple of sixteen year olds after prom and before our curfew.
Tomorrow was honorable Little Brother’s wedding! We’ll save that for Thursday, though.
Kage Alan is the Red Scorpion watching, Icehouse listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” He’s back, he’s still exhausted and he’s eager to get writing the second part to his Manhattan trip. Man, can he stretch a story or what? Is it even possible to condense 4 days down into a single post? He thinks not, so why even try?