Back from New York, tired, glad to be home.
New York is a pit of "coolness" which I don't care for.
More specifically, Midtown, sucks.
Last time I was there, I spent some time in the Villages, which was fairly nice.
This time I spent the entire time in Midtown:
stayed at the way-to-trendy Hudson hotel. A nice place, but it's full of hipster trash people and scene. I felt weird every time I walked through the lobby. Gauging by the last trip for work, I had figured I'd have no time to do anything but work, but I was wrong. Monday night we worked, then had dinner with just the Merchandising team, dinner was good, I came home and watched a documentary about Andre the Giant.
Wednesday after the meeting, four of us went to dinner in SoHo. It takes forever to get across town in that fucking traffic. I was scared just to be in the cab in Midtown, I can only imagine riding a motorcycle. Actually, for once, I don't even want to have my motorcycle. After dinner, returned to the Hudson and found myself with time to kill and nothing to do. And in Midtown, walked around for quite some time never finding a bar I could stand. Everything is so goddam cool and trendy there. All I want is a dive bar! Or a pub where the lights are dim so you can't see the stains on the walls. Everything is clean and everyone is wearing designer shoes and ties. Suck, big suck. I love to travel alone, and here, I felt lonely. I fucking hate New York. (at least the business trip area of it)
Finally found a "pub" where the bartender was actually Irish. After an hour of wlkaing, this was clearly the closest I was going to get to an actual pub. After a pint, went back to the Hudson and watched a documentary on Jeffrey Dahmer. Then started in on a documentary about Ed Gein. Fucking great. What a glamourous, happy life I have....
Sweet Dreams, woke up and wandered a bit before joining up with coworkers for the cab to the airport.
Next time I need to find some sort of dirty punk-rock escort service, someone to call up and just take me to someplace that doesn't reek of designer perfume, where I don't have to eavesdrop on conversations about people's pilates, botox, prada shoes, high-dollar vodkas, and low-carb beers. Let's just all get drunk, fight, and fuck. Fucking hipster trash.
Next time, I'll plan to get the fuck out of Midtown, maybe go back to the dive bar I found last time, with no taps, and a bathroom that I think was the inspiration for "The Worst Bathroom in Scotland." People were friendly there at least, and the jukebox was good. And nobody asked what brand of water you wanted.