An Ode to A/G

Welcome to my photographic journey through New York City.

The key to a good NYC trip is to have no plan whatsoever. Ideally, you will take a bus trip that departs at the arse-crack of dawn. You will, of course, show up at the very moment the odoriferous bus driver is prepared to close the door and leave your sorry butt behind. This man is large and in charge, and none-too-happy that you decided to roll in at your leisure. As punishment, you are assigned seats behind an uber-enthusiastic family of five, who are indubitably on their first trip to the Big Apple. And oh boy are they excited.

And weird.

What was your first clue that the Eager Beavers weren't your average Joes? Was it grandpa sticking his finger knuckle-deep into his nose the entire three and a half hour bus ride? Or was it the way in which the youngest whipper-snapper fondled his bag o' peanuts? Perhaps the fact that said whipper-snapper was incessantly gnawing on the palm of his hand? No, no. 'Twas definitely grandma's enthusiastic desire to catch the Cash Cab...because, peering out the tinted charter bus window, she definitely felt this was a realistic possibility.


With no plan in place and nearly four hours listening to the Eager Beavers, you seek out the nearest Starbucks. Seriously, what did we do before the Find a Starbucks app? (How spoiled yuppy of me.) As you wander in the general direction of your lunchtime destination, you stumble upon these beauts. Oh yes. You seriously consider buying them because, well, who doesn't need a pair of leather daisy dukes?!

With your next club outfit in hand, you meander southward. What's this? Lighthouse Marketplace, Fesitval of Shoes?! Yes, please. Mommy looooves her shoes.

Okay, so as it turns out, you need to get your sight checked. You've stumbled upon the Festival of Shops, not shoes. Nonetheless, you're pretty stoked to go shopping in church, and so you spring for a new Kangol.

Okay, so I don't even know how to make this picture relevant to this blog, but it made me happy...so here it is. There is apparently a contest in NYC for 100-year old microorganisms. What's not to love about that?


Your lunchtime destination, and the only thing officially on the agenda, is a Jewish deli. Surely your surrogate Jewish mother will be so proud that you've just trekked two hours through New York streets to partake in a $15 brisket sandwich. De-lish.

With your belly full and your time in NYC winding down, you brave the subway system back to the assigned pickup location. With time to spare, you duck into a novelty shop. Eureka! You can't decide whether to snag the bobble head leg lamp or the bobble head Ralphie (because, let's face it, they're both sa-weeet), so you buy both. Psych! In this shop, there's no buying anything...the check out lady decided to nap on the job. Sayonara, suckers!

So it goes. You've survived your unscripted journey through NYC. Whether it was the fifteen miles you've walked getting basically nowhere, or the thought of what the Eager Beavers had in store for the ride home, you dive into the best $8 beer you've ever had.




I'm neurotic today because...
...I pay to ride smelly buses that depart at pre-coffee hours with obnoxious people to ridiculously expensive cities. And love it.