7.27.2007

Katie Michel (cont'd) (Day 81)

The Pittsburgh Post Gazette ran an article about my friend and her family. A link to the article - which features quotes from friends, family and customers, as well as gives information for where to make donations to - is here.

7.26.2007

Katie Michel (Day 79)

It was a dark, snow covered night during the thanksgiving season when my then girlfriend and I had an argument regarding which bus stop to go to in order to catch the shuttle to the airport resulting in us being stuck in downtown Pittsburgh expecting to either be late for or miss our flight to Philadelphia. With stress levels as high as our suitcases were heavy, we crossed Liberty Avenue and ducked into a Dunkin' Donuts with our cell phones in our cold and desperate hands looking at each other wondering who we could call to help us in making our flight on time.

After a few minutes of my girlfriend trying to call some of her friends, a thought came to me - "I wonder if Katie Michel is around..." I searched my phone book quicker than I ever had before and pressed "send" when I arrived at her name. To my favor, Katie was at home, and agreed to come across town to chauffeur my girlfriend and I to the airport.

Twenty minutes later, Katie Michel came down Liberty Avenue in the snow, smiling behind the wheel of the four-door she had named Rutherford for a reason I either never knew or can't remember. As Katie pulled over over, my girlfriend and I jammed our luggage into the car where we could, and thanked her the entire way to the airport which was still a thousand times less than we should have. Promising something special for her when we returned from our holiday, Katie just smiled, and told us we didn't have to do anything for her and wished us a good and safe trip.

Not expecting anything in return for the kindness and generosity she gave to others is a quality that makes Katie Michel stand out in my mind. Never did it seem that Katie was doing me a favor, or that I was inconveniencing her in anyway - instead, if ever I needed anything from her, it always seemed as though she wasn't only willing or able to do it, but that she actually wanted to do it.

Living each day to it's fullest is a saying we hear a lot, but that's exactly how Katie lived her life. Diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, and having been through a lung transplant by the time I had met her, Katie Michel made the most of every day she was given knowing that each day she had was a gift - another day she had beaten her odds.

It was in the spring following her holiday rescue of my girlfriend and I that I overheard Katie cough and knew her lungs were in rejection. As quick as I asked her about it, she told me not to worry, that she was switching medications and was hopeful that the symptoms would subside. A few months later though, she was admitted back to the hospital which is where she would stay until July 24th, 2007 when she passed away at the age of 24.

Two days before I left Pittsburgh, the last thing she ever said to me with the help of a nurse was "I love you." It took all the energy I had to hold back my tears until I made it out of the hospital and called my sister to tell her about the kind of friend I had, and how unfair it was that this was happening to her. As long as I knew her, though, Katie Michel was always a strong and hopeful person who kept a positive attitude through all her hard times. A great friend, and the best kind of human being you could hope to have in your life are what will keep her special to me.

I spoke with her brother earlier today, and her family is asking those who knew her to make donations to a scholarship fund. If any of you have been touched by her life, or perhaps even just this story, feel free to visit www.olsh.org, to donate.

7.10.2007

On Driving (Days 62 hrough 64)

My friend Diane and her boyfriend John came to New York for a food show with the promise of a place to crash while here. While we had fun when we could (I've been working a lot lately), their means of transportation to this fair city of mine was Diane's car.

What I have to say on driving in this city is this: If you have any inkling that you are a bad driver, a driver who gets stressed out easily, or someone who in general doens't like crowds, loud noises, surprises or really, just other people - do not drive in this city.

I love Diane and John dearly, and wold not consider either of them a bad driver, even if Diane has some of her own reservations about it. However, the two times the three of us were ina car together we got lost - once in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and the other time ending up in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Awkward laughter, road rage, and finally crying were all responses to the stress of driving in and around the city. it's not even that the city itself is that hard to drive in - the streets in manhattan are basicallya grid - it's that the driving here is so agressive that with so many two-ton death machines on the road, if you're not sure of where you're going, or wha you're doing, you'll get lost, or possibly even run over in teh shuffle.

The subway is cheaper than the tolls, gas, parking and pills you need to help de-stress, and to be honest, if you're coming for a visit to New York form any other major city, Southwest and jetBlue probably offer some kind of cheap airfare, with Amtrak or *shudder* Greyhound being acceptable options as well.

Knowing Diane will eventually read this, I hope she doesn't feel that I think odd of her for her, or resent her in any way for getting caught up in teh stress of motorized transportation her ein the city. To be honest, I'm looking forward to the next time her and her navigator come visit because after all was said and done, I'm pretty sure they decided flying was a better option.

If you're planning a visit to New York anytime soon, I suggest you do the same.

On Love, Cigarettes (Night 60)

Since my first Marlboro Red when I was standing at the bus stop at about age 15, I've gone back and forth between smoker and non-smoker. I've quit after being caught by parents, in order to keep a girlfriend, and most recently, after a throat abscess that landed me in the hospital twice about two years ago. i suppose that even through that, though, there are still things about it that are attractive to me.

For instance, I enjoy the smokers lifestyle. A typical night of mine as a smoker in college was spent at bars or coffee shops taking in more than necessary of what was served me, talking to made friends, and making new friends - whether fellow writers, cheating hostesses, or the owners of the establishment I was in.

Moreover, though, something I learned about myself not so long ago is that I have an odd - if not comfortable - relationship with pain. While not a "cutter" or anything like that, I do deal with pain, or painful experiences, by laughing through them in what is usually a self-deprecating manner. I would rather deal with the pain of hurting myself than with that of the actual "problem" afflicting me.

Something I linked this to earlier in the week is my opinion of love at the moment. For those of you meeting me through this blog, I'll just say that I've been hurt a lot in my relationships, and it sounds all so melodramatic but I'm of the mind right now that I can't continue to go through the pain of opening u to someone and then having them hurt me in return. in fact, shortly after my last relationship ended, it was to teh point where I was seriously considering hurting myself in order to not be able to be hurt by the "real problem" of the relationship ending, and so after picking up the habit again in teh not so recent past - this is why I smoke.

It's not because I believe my jokes of how "it looks cool", or that I even believe I'll be one of the lucky few who makes it to his 110's on nothing but a scotch, bacon and cigarette diet - it's because even though I know teh addiction only ends one way - at least I know it. There's no surprise end as in a relationship - no being cheated on, no engagement broken off, and no being told 'we're just not right for each other."

And so, as in any relationship, even in cigarettes there are consequences, and in New York City, it's not just consequences of health but of laws as well. Tis past friday night I was having a cigarette on an outdoor subway platform - a place with nary a "no smoking" sign in sight, when an officer of the law - one of new York's "finest", so to speak - came up to me asking for identification and fined me fifty dollars.

The citing officer told me the chances were good that if contested I'd get the fine reduced, if not thrown out completely, but that he had to issue the citation anyway. With that in mind, I'm panning ot plead "not guilty" and go before a majistrate to argue my case - I'm new to the area, there were no posted sings, and I wasn't hurting anyone but myself.

7.06.2007

The Writer Returns (Day 60)

It's been 26 days since my last post, and I feel kind of terrible for it. Not only have I let things go on here, but personally, I'm sacrificing my need to write. It's therapy, in some way, I suppose - even if I'm not getting all that personal on here. The mental excercise, though, is what I believe helps rid myself of some of the everyday stressers and makes me "feel" better.

That being said, a lot has happened in 26 days...

1) I'm going to be an uncle again. In June my sister told me she's pregnant for the second time. Come December or so, my nephew will have a little brother or sister to play with..

2) I've moved. I know live ina sectio of New York known as Ridgewood that borders Brooklyn and Queens. My roommate is a 21 South African girl named Leann brought here by way of Colorado. Her boyfriend, James is around a lot as well.

3) I'm preparing for promotion. I briefly met another store manager here in New York who said he'd be looking for an Assistant manager in the fall. My current store manager told him (with me in the room) that I would fit in well with his store and hat I'd be ready by fall. I'm grateful to have the support, and am anxious and eager to take on more responsibility for the company, but I'm also a firm believer in Murphy's Law as well. I'm planning for the best right now, and focusing on being the best I can be in my position right now.

4) I got robbed. I drank a bit too much one nite a few weeks ago and ended up passing out in the Union Square subway station. When I came to, my sport coat, wallet and PDA were gone. The PDA is a loss, but luckily my bank card was turned off immediately and the money refunded, and through the kindness of a stranger, my State ID was returned to me. It's been a hassle, and replacing some things cost me some money, but in the end it's not as if I got punched in the face or anything.

5) I got punched in the face. Two days after being robbed I was coming around the corner towards my apartment when a large man bumped into me. I didn't think anything of it until he came back, spun me around and began saying something to me in beer soaked Polish. Finally asking me "Is there a fucking problem, motherfucker?" in English, I told him "No. Get the fuck off of me", and released his arms from their pinning of me to a fence. As his arms were flung up and outwards, he took one back, clenched a fist and took one swing at me, connecting with my jaw. A man yelled from the street and my assaulter took off. Luckily though bigger than me, he hits like a girl 9at least when drunk.)

6) I changed my phone number to a New York number. If you don't have hte new one, let me know and I'll send it to you.

7) I visited family and friends in Pennsylvania. I went to Lancaster for a visit from Saturday through Tuesday. I saw and talked to a lot more people their than I have in a long time. Amber's sister (Kate) had her baby with some complications but all is well now. Lisa (you know, the one who helps me "run" this site) is still a social butterfly and incredibly fun to talk to and shop with. Ashley was able to take the two hours I saw her for (the first time in five years) and make me realize why I miss having her in my life. And finally, while my youngest siblings weren't home this past weekend, I did see my sister (in town from Chicago) for a day, which is never enough time.

That's about where things stand right now. Diane (a friend form Pittsburgh) and her boyfriend are coming to visit me this coming Sunday through Tuesday, which is exciting, and sometime in teh near future I need to call Joe, Josh and Cait and see when I cna make plans to hang out with them.

I'll update soon.

6.10.2007

"Look Before You Leap", being the moral of thsi story, I suppose (Day 34)

After trying to recover from teh hangover for half the day, Josh and I decided to head into Manhattan to buy CD's, DVD's and Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream Ice Cream. I boght my box sete of Ghostbusters I and II back (it had been stolen 2 years ago), and Josh bought an Elvis Costello record or two. Approaching 8th Ave., Josh spotted a place called "DVD Palace" nad persuaded me to check it out with him.

The first thing I noticed upon entering was the staircase leading downstairs with a neon "Adult Section" sign glowing in the midday sun coming through the door. The man working the door stopped Josh and I and asked if we had ever been there before and thsi is what happens...

Doorman: "You two ever been here before?"

Josh: "Uh, no. Is thsi stuff to rent or to buy?"

Doorman: "No, we don't rent anything man. It's all to buy."

Josh: "Oh, ok. Good. That's what we want."

Doorman: "Ok, well, let me tell you about the place. Up here are all our karate movies, and then here you've got all our adult movies which you can take into the booths right here and watch 'em, and If you decide you like 'em, you can buy 'em. Downstairs are all our new releases.

Josh: "Uh, ok. Thanks."

Realizing that this is not the kind of place we were hoping for, we hold out hope a moment longer to go check out the new releases which we come to discover are intermixed with condoms, jellies and dildos.

After we left the store we proceeded up 8th Ave. in search of the ice cream and find that every other storefront is advertising some form of adult entertainment.

Wild Night (Night 33)

9pm - It's 9pm and I can't get in touch with Joe, who I have plans to go out with. I look at Josh and ask, "Josh, do you want to go get drunk?" "Kind of," he replies. Cait tells us to go have a guys nite and Josh and I don't hesitate to oblige her.

10pm - After a train ride intot eh Village and a stop to get cash, Josh and I make it to Bar None - a bar which promises $2 drinks every nite from 11pm to midnite. We order a drink inside, where it seems to empty to be a bar in New York. Josh's Guinness is $6, my Whiskey and Coke is $5.

10:32pm - A shot girl comes up to us offering something orage with vodka or a Jagerbomb. I choose the Jagerbomb. Through the flirting she's required to go through with me, I find out that she's a Penn State, marketing student. She mentions something about an internship in the city, but I don't remember much of what she said about it. I can only guess selling overpriced shots to eager twenty-somethings is what she meant.

11:01pm - Josh orders a $2 Whiskey and Soda Water. I try to order 5 of my drinks and the bartender tells me they have to give them to me one at a time during the special.

11:04pm - I order my third drink.

11:08pm - My fourth drink and a call from Joe telling me he and his girlfriend are heading into Manhattan to meet up with us by around midnite. Along comes drink number five.

11:15pm - A girl named Jacqueline approaches Josh and I and tells us she's the event planner for the bar. She asks us how we like the place and we tell her we like it fine. I give her a fake name as Josh fills out the mailing list. Afterwards, Jacqueline buys Josh and I each a drink.

11:30pm - After six drinks and a shot, I'm starting to think I should slow down. I find the restroom, and after my go, man the table as Josh has his.

11:45pm - Jacqueline comes back and asks us where our drinks are. I tell her I've had seven already. She buys Josh and I another each.

12:02am - Joe arrives and the four of us decide to go to a place he describes as "a Johnny Cash bar."

12:25am - We enter Doc Holiday's (the Johnny Cash bar) and find seats at the bar. Joe tells me to order four PBR pounders and tells me I'll be surprised at how cheap it is. I order the beers and he's right, I am surprised - $16 is far too cheap for four PBR's.

12:32am - "Ring of Fire" comes on the jukebox, and the stocky, suicide girl of a bartender jumps on the bar laces a shot in her mouth and ignites it, causing a fireball to erupt. She then sprays the crowd down with seltzer water.

12:44am - Joe orders another round of beers.

1:15am - I order another round of beers.

1:35am - I make my way to the bathroom. After, I put a dollar in the jukebox which contains no records by what you would call "modern" artists, and what the juke does have hasn't been released since 1972 save the one Johnny Cash record from the oughts it has. I pick two songs, but somehow notice that I have ten more plays. I tell some douchebag ina polo shirt that I have plays left if he wants.

2am - Joe orders what will be our final round at the bar. He tells me about job offers he's gotten, and speaks highly of his girlfriend, who earlier inthe evening I asked ot teach me Russian. I don't remember her response.

2:30am - We depart the bar and suddenly my drunkenness kicks into overdrive. I start calling random girls, "baby" and tell some random guy on the street to "leave me the fuck alone." A few blocks later some girls on a balcony that I cna't see start shouting into the street, "I can see you!" I lie and shout back, "I can see you!" We go back and forth for a few minutes until I spot a bike on the street and try to steal it - turns out it's chained though.

2:40am - I see another bike and try to steal it until I notice a bottle of wine housed in it's basket. Upon finding out the bottle is empty, I smash it on the sidewalk.

2:50am - We arrive at 4th ave. and after goodbyes that seem to take ten minutes, begin to art ways. I see a guy at the corner, and ask, "where the fuck did you come from?" My friends apologize for me.

3am - I tell Josh I'm hungry and find an open food cart. I order up a chicken kebab and with food in mouth proclaim, "you are the man! seriously, you rule!" to the vendor.

3:04am - Josh and I head into the subway but it turns out my metrocard expired at midnite. We walk across the street to the station with an open card machine and buy myself a one trip ticket. The sensation of needing to relieve the biggest piss int eh world hits me as we get to our platform.

3:20am - While standing I stumble and Josh gets scared that I'll fall onto the train tracks. he tells me to lean against the subway map as a lonely saxophone begins to play. "This is awesome!" I say. I begin improvising words and singing along. I don't remember any of it, but Josh tells me, "well, the saxophone was good."

3:40am - The Q train arrives and Josh and I get on it. I have no recoolection of anything until we arrive at our stop half an hour later when, surprisingly, Josh is able to wake me up, and even more surprisingly, I haven't pissed myself.

4:20am - We get back tot eh apartment. In the midst of taking off my clothes, I launch a quarter from the inside pocket of my jeans across the room. It seems like the coolest thing ever at the time, but i pass out anyway.

10am - I wake up with the worst headache known to man to the sounds of pots and pans as I groan, "Ow!" from the couch. Cait tells me she's making blueberry pancakes and bacon and that their's Orange Juice in the fridge. Josh and Cait are the best people ever.

Apartment (Day 33)

I responded to some craigslist ads and ended up finding a place ot live. I'll be sharing a small two bedroom apartment in Queens with Leann, a 21 year old waitress originally from South Africa who took some psychology courses before moving to New York around the age of 19.

Anyone who wants the address - whether to send me letters or presents in the mail, or to plan a trip to come visit me - e-mail me and I'll send it your way.

Fat Bottomed Girls (Day 32)

A girl came into the store with a bent debit card that instead of being able to be swiped through the register, had to be entered manually. The girl was tan skinned, curly haired and average looking and when I joked, "ran it through the laundry machine?", she started her bubble voiced response with, "No I'm a big girl and I accidentally sat on it..."

As someone living in one of (if not the) fattest countries in the world, it's hard not to find at least one person a day who has at least a little extra weight. I dont' give it much thought (hell, I could lose some weight too) unless the person in question is obese, or at least acting in an obese way.

Obesity to me isn't all an issue of size, but rather an attitude. If you're overeight, but staying active - walking around, having fun, offering something meaningful to society, or maybe even acknowledging the fact that you're not a model and are trying to better yourself for your own purposes, fine.

if on the other hand you're allowing yourself to fall by the wayside by keeping a job that keeps you on your ass all day, eating fried foods and cheesecake, and instead of doing anything productive are rather taking up space, well, how does one allow themselves to become that?

My point here is that I was taken aback when the girl brought it up, as I hadn't given it a thougth myself, and it's not every day that you hear someone talk about their own weight without the slightest of uncomfortability coming along with it - and, without sounding sexist here - especially a woman. It was good to see that this person, at least, didn't believe in the "ignorance is bliss" rule. She appeared happy and healthy even as she was bringing up her weight. It seems logical to guess that this attitude isn't a rarity seen in a fleeting, coffee shop moment, but rather one that translates to her everyday life.

Fashion (Day 31)

I'm a man in all the obvious ways as well as some that aren't so obvious. Aside from the whole "having a penis" thing, I eat steak, drink whiskey, like action movies and have a fear of commitment and even more of a fear of having children. I wear jeans, like brunettes and along with my special brand of charm - or "misanthropy" as I like to call it - comes the normality fo a few extra pounds that I could spare from my 69 and a half inches.

I'm finding, however, that "fashion" for a man here in New York means being built like a five foot four, 95 lbs. twelve year old girl. Every store I go into displays it's "extra small" size on the mannequins and tabletops, and every displayed pant size seems to only reach the length of 30 inches and the waist fo 32. The counter help performs he miracle of being able to fit into these clothes while all the while delivering no particular kind of service to their customers.

I suppose what I'm wondering here is when it became cool to be short, scrawny and awkward? I know that nerdiness becomes cool some time in your mid-twenties, and I know that most women like a man who at least pretends to be a bit cultured. That doesn't mean they like men whose body structure wouldn't allow them to help carry the groceries, let alone change a tire, and I'm almost certain that no woman wants a man whose newly purchased "extra small" shirt and size 28 jeans reeks of pheromones more than Chanel No. 5.

As for women, their fashion sense isn't any better. All day long I see women walking down the street wearing what can only be defined as a short dress over top of their pants along with sunglasses so large that they put Bono's to shame. Gone are the days when all a woman had to do was look good ina pair of jeans, replaced by todays standard of gaudiness and cellular telephones that cause the perception of Times Square exploding onto their face.

"It costs a fortune to look this trashy," is a quote of Bono's I read once without giving it a second thought. Here in this city, though, where it's hard to find any of the aforementioned products for less than fifty dollars, perhaps it is true that tackiness, gaudiness, or more simply - trashiness acts as social stature. I can only hope I never become rich to the point of looking like rags.

5.31.2007

"In My Country There Is Problem, And That Problem Is Transport..." (Day 30)

"I've gone local."

These words rang through my head while taking the Q train to work at 4:45 in the morning, and to a lot of you, they mean nothing. To the millions of people who take MTA transport, however, it means that whatever "express" train you thought you got on, is actually making every stop (a "scenic route", of sorts) instead of the minimal stops an express train makes on its regular run.

I don't have a problem with a longer train ride, to be honest. I just wish I knew when to expect them. A reasonable person might retort, "Why not look at a schedule!", and that would be a proper response in any other city. While there are schedules available here, however, no one seems to make use of them. Trains arrive and depart at will, which is about every 5 to 10 minutes during normal business hours - so I have no complaints on that, however they also get delayed or re-routed at will as well.

A lot of trains actually have signs clarifying any misgivings about the route or routes that stop on that track. For example, at Church Avenue, the B train says where it goes and when - late nites and weekends have exclusions. At the same stop, however, the Q train placard tells riders that it's an express to Manhattan at "all times." I don't pretend to know the inner workings of the MTA, however in the month I've been in this city, I've "gone local" twice when I shouldn't have, have been told my train is delayed because of "an investigation" at another station twice, and have once been informed that my Q train was becoming an N train and that instead of waiting on the same track for the following Q, I'd have to walk up the stairs, to the right, down the ramp, to the left and then back down some stairs to catch another Q - which ended up being late.

Announcements on board or in the train stations are a normal expectation as well, however, half the time the announcements on board are inaudible due to a problem with volume control, and when an announcement inside the station is made my a human instead of a machine, it's inaudible because of speed of delivery or the sounds of thousands of overlapping footsteps and conversations.

A lot of times things go right on the MTA trains, however, and without them I wouldn't get to play my movie making game, nor would I have had half the conversations I had in my first week of being here. Still, it's not unheard of to have to deal with crazy women on ecstasy shouting "those ain't my niggas, them's white fingas on the triggas", foul smells, mystery goops and liquids, litter, and plain old assholes. For all of that, it's not unreasonable to ask to be informed about which route my train is going and when.

Mini Meta Post (Day 29)

It finally happened.

I'm failing my mission. I started this blog in an attempt to write a little bit each day on my first year in New York. I the past week, however, I've been writing more like very other day - sometimes every third.

It's all my fault, I suppose. No one to blame but myself. I'm the one who found a job within a week of arriving here, and I'm the one working 40 uneven hours of work a week and losing the energy to write every nite.

Likewise, I'm the one who came to New York with no place to live other than on my friend's couch, thus forcing me to spend what time I have to peruse the internet on craigslist looking for sublets so as not to overstay my welcome.

So this is an apology to you the reader albeit an empty one. A promise that "I'll never do it again", isn't following, nor is any real guilt towards you.

The guilt I feel is from feeling as though I've failed my writing experiment within the first month of taking it on. I can tell myself (and you) that I'll try to do better, or that I'll be more diligent, but in the end all I can do is write a post that sounds apologetic but isn't in order to decrease the number of posts I have backed up.

5.27.2007

Holidays In The Sun (Day 26-28)

This weekend saw me not doing anything new, so much as relaxing on my days off when I could, as well as helping to show some of New York to Josh's parents.

Friday started early as my plans for later that evening were canceled and Josh started inviting me along to show his parents around New York as we went about tidying up his apartment. Our later excursion to the post office was a confusing one as a local drug store advertised postal service but then referred us up the street to the crowded and un air conditioned post office. Upon finishing our business there Josh and I headed back to his apartment, but then separated soon thereafter as I headed into Manhattan to pick up my paycheck.

Once in Manhattan, I spent some time at my store saying hi to co-workers before heading out to decide what to do with my day. Deciding once again to make my way into Times Square to check out novelty T-Shirt prices for family members as well as to track down the MTV store to see what it was all about, I deposited my check and headed into headed up 7th Ave.


The trip was an ultimate disappointment, however, not only because I hate Times Square enough to begin with, but also in that the MTV store was nothing like I expected it to be. It was small, had only a meager selection of T-Shirts and housed a minimal selection of stickers at the front counter. To be honest, if any company or corporation had a market to advertise to, I figured MTV would be it. On a personal note, I was hoping for a vintage room featuring Liquid Television and Remote Control T-Shirts, a wall of nothing but Unplugged CD's and DVD's, and maybe even Duff's leather jacket or Kennedy's glasses encased in glass.

To be honest, the rest of my Friday nite was boring. My initial plan after my, er, initial plans got canceled, was to try to track down Joe and go get drunk with him. As it happened, however, he tried to call me around 8pm when I was napping and my phone was on silent. I woke up around 10pm as Josh and his parents walked in from their sightseeing and dinner.

On Saturday I decided to join Cait, along with Josh, his parents and two of their friends in more sightseeing. I'll be gin by saying that Josh's parents and their friends are in their late 40's or early 50's, hail from a suburb of Pittsburgh, and have never seen New York before. So their list of sights to see included the following:

1) Statue of Liberty
2) Ground Zero
3) Times Square
4) Eat at a "real" New York Deli

Instead of taking a ferry to get up close and personal with Lady Liberty in 90 degree weather, we decided to take the train into Battery Park which offers a fine view of the statue. The first to get frustrated with the pace we had to keep with Josh's parents, I saw Cait giving the same eye roll I was and found comfort and kinship in it. Still, Josh' parents (and now their friends) had been nothing but nice to me, and there I was saying to myself that these were the people I hate in New York - the slow walkers, the eons who take up the entire sidewalk, the ones who move with no purpose and take pictures in the middle of the street - I couldn't help but be frustrated, but I felt like a terrible person at the same time.

In perspective, however, seeing Ground Zero and Lady Liberty wound's be things I would go and do on my own, so I was glad ot see them, even if at my own pace our list of stops would've taken me two hours as opposed to a whole day. That evening, after Josh's parents made their way back to Pennsylvania, the three of us had a mini-bitchfest for a few minutes and then decided it was time to buy a twelve pack of beer and watch House re-runs.

My workday today was my making of amends for hating our tourist tagalongs yesterday I suppose. The store wasn't busy in the slightest due to the Memorial Day weekend, but what customers we did have all seemed to be tourists from out of the country. I was pleasant to all of them while still finding it odd that these fok would be taking a long weekend over Memorial Day weekend, an American holiday. One British woman told me she expected the city to not be as busy which I sort of chuckled at because A) it's New York, and B) I had actually thought it was a slow weekend int eh city from teh previous ones I had seen.

5.25.2007

Good Little Children (Night 25)

It's infrequent, anymore, that I see what the world would refer to as "good" children anymore. While I admit to being not only crotchety, but also a misanthrope, that doesn't change the fact that many parents today don't appear to be there for their children in any sense other than to pay their cell phone bill, buy them a venti frappucino at Starbuck's, and take them shopping. Simple values like picking up after oneself, saying "please" and "thank you", and being respectful of others seem to have fallen by the wayside as today's parents are busier and busier with their own lives.

So tonite I was shocked when at around 10:30pm a boy around seven years old offered to hold his mother's bag in his lap while he sat and she stood for the duration of their ride on the Q train. Not only that, but on crowded train car, the mother took the time to give a mini-lesson in geography and subtraction to the child when he asked where they were and how many more stops they had. Not once did the mother ignore the boy, and not once did she raise her voice or degrade the child. Ina world (or city) more accepting, I would've like to have talked to the boy and his mother to tell the child how nice he was to her, see what kind of things he's interested in, and to tell his mother that I liked how curly her hair was.

I found myself continuing to look over and watch the mother and child throughout the train ride in awe of all that was going on inside their immediate nucleus. What I was even more in awe of, by juxtaposition, was that when a seat net to the child freed up on the car, a man took it instead of pointing it out to the mother. It seems some people just haven't been raised right.

Eight Months (Night 24)

Apologies for not posting this earlier. In all honesty, my last few days have been taken up by thoughts of what at was the impending LOST season finale. A few days back I found a summary of the episode online and read it without knowing if it was accurate or not. In the day or so that followed, I literally lost sleep over what I had read wondering if it were true and what would happen in that case. As it turned out, what I read was true, yet, knowing the outcome of the episode as it was unfolding didn't stop the roller coaster ride of emotions I was put through.

I realize that to most people it sounds insane to lose sleep over what's going to happen inside the lives of fictional characters, but at the moment, LOST is one of two shows I regularly watch (the other being the always enjoyable, yet formulaic House, MD). It's been a show full of good sotry telling with one (maybe two) not so good episodes in it's three season long history, and personally as it holds a place in my heart as the show I've watched with friends, called my sister afterwards to discuss plot points, and even had a relationship end after one season finale, I feel connected to it in some way. I am compelled to see this show through to the end.

Last nite's season finale was jarring, and left me with the feeling that I should call the person responsible for introducing me to the show and say, "So, I know we don't talk anymore, and I hated you for a long time, but this is important - this is LOST." I refrained, however, and am now in the beginning stages of an eight month wait for next season to begin. This got me thinking about eight things that will have happend in eight months:

1) In eight months I'll have experienced Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years in New York.

2) In eight months at least one friend will have given birth to her second child.

3) In eight months I'll have gone back to Pittsburgh for my first visit since I've left.

4) In eight months I'll have gone to Boston to see two close friends who will return from Europe.

5) In eight months I'll be 27.

6) In eight months I'll have been living in New York for nine.

7) In eight months it will have been a little over 19 since I'll have taken a college class.

8) In eight months it will have been over a year since I "left" working for a bank.

There are events coming up in my life, then, that will no doubt distract me from next season's start. Still, you can bet I'll be checking spoiler sites and message boards, and contemplating picking up the phone to rekindle a - ahem - lost friendship.

5.22.2007

Batman, Groceries, Apartments and My Bad Attitude (Day 23)

First, I'm sure you'll all notice that the featured picture this week is not of my standard black and white variety. As I wrote about the other day, one of the few comic book heroes I do get geeky over is Batman, and in case you hadn't heard, the sequel to 2005 Batman Begins entitled The Dark Knight comes out next July (2008). This time around the Joker is being portrayed by Heath (yes, Brokeback Mountain) Ledger, and it appears from the photo I'm featuring - which is legit, I assure you - that director Christoper Nolan is giving the fans what they want: a more violent, and sinister looking Joker with a cut-smile look about him.

If the newest Batman saga interests you, I suggest the following links:

Batman On Film (News)
The Dark Knight
I Believe In Harvey Dent
I Believe in Harvey Dent Too (not down, click and drag over the entire page).

On to more things about New York...

I went grocery shopping yesterday and ended up spending about $45 which got me one steak, four pork chops, a bunch of asparagus, a 12 pack of diet coke, a four pack of sugar free Red Bull, one roll of paper towels, one frozen pizza, one carton of Breyer's ice cream, and one bottle of store brand chocolate syrup (sometimes when I'm feeling like a ten year old, I crave chocolate milk - it's so good.)

I suppose meat generally costs a bit, and the four pack of Red Bull was around eight bucks, but yesterday was the first time I left the grocery store feeling like I had gotten ripped off. I had three bags of groceries and had spent $45 without even really putting a full, normal meal together. I shouldn't complain too much, though, as my job affords me the opportunity to take home a variety of leftover lunch items. Still, it's hard getting used to how quickly money can be spent in this city.

Another thing I'm getting used to is apartment hunting. Today a girl from work invited me to take a look at a room she's vacating in her apartment. We set up a time, cleared it with her other roommate (with whom I'd be living with) and by the time I was leaving work to check out the apartment, someone else had beaten me to it. It seems like the best way to get a place around here is to either A) use a broker, who will charge you service fees, or B) know someone who knows someone who knows someone... I've been looking on craigslist, and have some feelers out with other friends, but if anyone in the New York area knows of anything, please let me know.

I'm also starting to wonder if maybe my "inner New Yorker" is starting to come out. Over the weekend I vented to Josh and Cait about my pet peeve of people walking with no sense of speed or purpose and they commented in the same way my mother had last week. At work I've also started to notice that I have no patience for customers who are rude to myself, other employees or other customers.

Just today I was taking an order form someone and a woman behind me kept interrupting saying "excuse me" over and over. I turned to her and told her that I was helping someone else and would be right with her. She then complained that she had been given the "wrong kind of lid" (flat lid instead of a bubbled sip lid) and would now spill her coffee everywhere. I explained that we had run out of the kinds of lids she was referring to, and that a new order was coming soon. To be honest though, I learned how to drink a drink without spilling it when I was a child - I feel bad for people whose life experience was such that it didn't lend them an opportunity to learn such a basic fucking life skill. From the way my original customer rolled his eyes towards Miss Can't-Drink-A-Drink, I can see I'm not the only one feeling bad for her.

Finally, I was given a free pair of Yankees tickets by Bank of America for reopening my accounts in New York (no Mom, this doesn't mean you don't have to send me my debit card - please send it quickly!) I debated the reopening process for a few minutes but then decided I can always close one set of accounts, and the free Yankees tix were worth it, as I feel I should see Yankee Stadium. It's bleacher seats, but I'll probably have the opportunity to move to better seats. If anyone wants to go see the Yanks play the Blue Jays in late September, I've got an extra ticket.

5.21.2007

Making Movies About Working On The Railroad (Day 22)

To start, I'd like ot thank all of you who have been commenting on Year One. In the three weeks I've been in New York, I've had some friends and family members comment, but in the last few days I've received comments from people I don't believe I know. Whether you've gotten the blog address from a friend, a slip of paper that was lost in NYC, or from my mother - thanks for reading and thanks for leaving feedback.

I've also decided that as I reference music a bit, I need to find out how to post mp3's on a blog. If anyone knows how to do this, please contact me so you can learn me somethin' new!

The other day I wrote about riding the subway with my mp3 player on and noticing how the visuals matched the music. Then yesterday I wrote about the gentleman who asked the train car for money. Today on my way home from work, a different gentleman than the one who boarded yesterday's train came aboard and started asking for money. While this man didn't go as in depth as yesterday's panhandling passenger, he seemed as thankful, earnest and humble about his collection.

The reason I mentioned the mp3 posting above is because the song playing on my mp3 player at the time of the man coming aboard was Coldplay's "Politik." It's hard to explain what the visuals were like without having the song accessible, but if you can, try to imagine a man coming aboard a train and asking the passengers on the car for help from anyone who can offer it as Chris Martin's ethereal, brit-pop vocals begin to sing "Look at earth from outer space/Everyone must find a place..."

If nothing else, I suppose it made me go all idealistic for a moment and gave me an idea for a video.

Working On The Railroad (Day 21)

I was taking the Q train to work this afternoon when a man got aboard and immediately started talking to everybody. Strange people talking strangely is commonplace in New York, but what this man was trying to do was give away a free ice cooler at first, but then started talking about hsi personal life.

"My wife and I fell on hard times," he said as he offered a card with his name and phone number to anyone who would take it. He asked anyone to let him know if they needed work done on their house, as well as held out a hat stating that any money anyone could donate right there on the train would be used to do laundry and help put food on the table.

I've seen panhandlers and street salesmen before, and like all those other times, I didn't give this man money. I was struck, however, not only by his ability to speak in public and sell himself, but also the extent to which he offered, asked and thanked the people. If he was lying, which may be the case, he at least put together a believable speech and wasn't rude, demanding or degrading to anyone. If he was telling the truth, though, it's quite a shock to the system to see how someone can get to the point that they can feel comfortable telling their life story to - and asking for help from - strangers.

5.20.2007

"You're Such A Nerd." (Day 20)

I made my way to the Village with Josh and Cait to go see Spiderman 3. It wasn't a great movie, but it wasn't a bad one either. Josh says I still have sticker shock from having to pay $11 to see a movie - on a Saturday afternoon, no less - but the all of ten minutes featuring Venom, and the scene featuring Bruce Campbell made it worth it.

Though Josh and I being surprised by Cait with two large drinks, an order of nachos and a bottomless bucket of popcorn was fun, the real fun started once we all left the theater. Josh and Cait took me down to The Strand, a three story used book store where the music section is next to the Germanic history section and the aisle itself has a Philip K. Dick end cap, there's a Tears for Fears video collection on the same rack as a used copy of Brokeback Mountain, and all three floors are chock full of NYU girls.

I perused the selection and stumbled across a book on Charlton Heston, a Warhol collection, the new Palahniuk novel, and an entire section dedicated to the artwork of men's magazines. I considered buying a couple "not for tourist" guides to sections of the city, but let it go for the time being before making a stop at the box sets, and the $1 book carts on our way out the door.

After The Strand, Cait left Josh and I to go to a book reading, and before taking a trip to the local Walgreen's to see if we could hunt down Ben & Jerry's "Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream" (we couldn't), we decided to stp by Forbidden Planet - the local comic book store.

Now, I admit to not being much of a comic reader. I've read a few Batman comics, used to have some Spiderman comics when I was younger, and have read a good bit of Frank miller's Sin City, but what I love about comic book stores is geekiness of it all.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was the T-Shirt options hanging from the wall, but I was quickly distracted by the life-size Batman statue worth $2400 that was being raffled off. Making my way down aisle after aisle I came upon action figures from Buffy, Star Trek, and CSI: NY just to name a few, not to mention the loads of other memorabilia encased as well.

On top of the memorabilia, the comic selection appeared to be extensive, although some things seemed out of place or hard to locate (there were Marvel comics on the DC Vertigo stand, for instance.) That aside, however, another thing I love about comic stores is that even if it's been a while since the last time you've been in one, you can almost always find something that catches your eye. This time around I found the comic version of the movie Se7en - the "Pride" killing to be specific. I considered buying it, but thought that going back when I had more time would lend me both the opportunity to see if I could find the issues I had missed, as well as the opportunity to see more hot, geeky, comic book chicks.

Geek out.

5.19.2007

Making Movies (Night 19)

One of my favorite past times is wearing my mp3 player while walking or riding around whatever town I live in. Sometimes I watch conversations and imagine what's being said, and sometimes I watch the scenery and make my own music videos - while not even being high.

Last nite I started There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths as the Q train was pulling away from Canal St. towards the Manhattan Bridge. The sight of Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge lit up at 11 o'clock at night appeared just as the first "...To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die" was ending,and the song ended as the train went into the tunnel on the other end of the bridge towards Dekalb Ave.

As the lights in the tunnel led the train into Dekalb Ave., U2's Electrical Storm started. The sonic properties of Bono's vocals played off the blue and white lights until we pulled into the station and people exited the train as "...You're in my mind all of the time..." was sung.

I'm interested to find out if I'm alone in my film making, or if other people make their own movies in their mind as well. Send me a comment and let me know.

5.18.2007

The Kindness of Strangers (Day 18)

(I've written about how New Yorkers are self-involved. This is an example of being proven wrong...)

Last nite an old woman who didn't speak english very well, and who was also a bit argumentative, came into the store and wanted to buy a half-pound of coffee. Myself and my co-workers got her order together and once the woman was gone, one co-worker informed me that the police had been called to escort hre out at one point for causing a scene after trying to get change for a $100 bill when only paying with a $10 bill.

I told my co-worker I'd be sure to keep an eye out, and headed outside to take my ten minute break. While outside, an attractive brunette in her 30's said hi to me and asked "you work for Starbuck's, right?" I told her I did, and now recognized her as a customer whose bank card hadn't worked last week.

As a lot of our customers during the daytime come from teh building the store is directly under, I figured she was a regular customer and told her not to worry about the cup of coffee. Now, outside on my break, she took the time to approach and thank me. We spoke for a few moments, exchanged first names, and parted ways.

About half an hour later, the old woman was back in teh store asking for a small cup of coffee. She placed a handful of change on the counter, and after counting it I informed her that it wasn't enough for our smallest cup of coffee.

Just then a familiar looking woman in her 20's got in line and said, "It's ok, I'll pay for the rest of her coffee." I asked if she was sure, and upon further endorsement, I gave the old woman her cup of coffee. The other customer told me to give the money back to the old woman, and then ordered a mint tea and a Rice Crispy square ("sinful square", she called them) while chuckling as as I expressed my shock that somebody would do that for another person here.

It was as I was getting her order together that I realized why I thought I recognized this person - the customer bore a striking resemblance to Norah Jones.

"Doesn't Norah Jones live on the Lower East Side?", I thought. "Why would she come all the way to midtown for a mint tea and a "sinful square? It can't be her," I thought.

I'm not going to claim to have met Ms. Jones, because a memory has a tendency to change a bit over time - especially when you're trying to convince yourself who someone was or wasn't. I will say, however, that one reason I thought it couldn't be her is that she would be on tour in support of her new album. As it turns out, that tour doesn't start until June, so I suppose anything is possible.

Whether or not I met a celebrity isn't the point of the story, though - the fact that two strangers went out of their way to be nice to someone else for a few seconds is.

5.16.2007

Buy Me Hats or (Not Such A) Miracle on 34th St. (Day 17)

Now that I know where I'm going when taking the trains and walking around, I've started wearing my mp3 player on the train ride and subsequent walk to work.

As I exited the subway station at 34 St. in front of Macy's (you know, the Macy's - of Thanksgiving Day Parade fame), I stopped to change the song on my mp3 player. All of a sudden I felt something hit the back of my head and feared the worst:

"Did a bird...just...shit on me?"

I reached my hand to the back of my head and felt some kind of liquid. As I looked at my hand, my fears were put to rest as I saw something that didn't resemble bird excrement, but rather looked more like a soy latte. From what I remember, there was no discernible odor, but that didn't stop the feeling of disgust that overcame me as I wiped my hand off on Macy's exterior wall.

With 20 minute to get to work, I ran into Macy's and asked the doorman where the public bathroom was. He told me it was on the 7th floor, and I made my way to the elevators trying in desperate embarrassment to not have the back of my head face anyone. I found the bathroom and spent 10 minutes washing out my hair without being able to know if whatever grossness was forced upon me is gone.

I made it to work with about three minutes to spare. Once back at Josh's apartment, I told him the story and he informed me that he is under the impression that the windows in Macy's don't open. We determine that either a bird did in fact shit on me (a scenario I'm not willing to even contemplate), or that someone threw something at me.

Either way, if you'd like to send me a hat - or multiple hats, e-mail me to discuss style options and receive a shipping address.

Bad Attitude (Day 16)

A friend of mine asked me today, "Have you developed the New Yorker bad attitude yet?"

First of all, it's not just New Yorkers who have bad attitudes - I was born and raised outside fo Philadelphia, and then lived in Pittsburgh for eight years and I developed a bad attitude on my own, thank you very much. Second of all, as I've written before, I don't think New Yorkers as a whole have bad attitudes, they're just self-involved.

What I have noticed, however, is that things that used to be pet peeves are now major annoyances. For example, before I moved here my managers in Pittsburgh (who lived in New Jersey and worked in New York before moving back to Pittsburgh) told me to make sure I "moved like I had a purpose" even if I didn't have one. As I'm someone who's a fast walker, and who detests it when people walk down the middle of the sidewalk at a speed slower than surrounding foot traffic, this was not going to be a difficult task for me.

As I've found, however, there are a lot of people who don't heed this advice. It's a city of 8 million people, and probably close to double that during business hours, and still there are always people walking slowly down the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the entranceway to a storefront or subway station, or otherwise not paying attention to where they've positioned themselves. In other cities, this has been a pet peeve that resulted in some - shall I say - less than christian thoughts. In New York, however, I'm betting I've got about another two weeks or so before I blurt out, "fucking move, asshole!"

I told my mom this the other nite, and she said, "Becoming a real New Yorker, aren't we?" Maybe she's right, but I'd argue I was always like this - it just took New York to show me my full potential.

5.15.2007

You're Welcome (Day 15)

I stuck around the store after work today awaiting my first week's worth of tips only to have an error occur which resulted in me being shorted on my tips. I notified my store manager, and the woman who gets the tips together and a solution was figured out.

After I received most of the remainder of my week's worth of tips, I found the co-worker responsible for getting tips together and thanked her personally for helping me out. She looked straight at me and didn't say anything. I'm not sure if I said something to offend her, or if she was having a bad day (or anything for that matter), and honestly, it doesn't matter. I was raised to say "you're welcome" when someone thanks you. Over the years I've used the words "no problem", or "yeah, it's cool", as a replacement, but I didn't even get that. Instead, I thanked a co-worker for helping me out, and I got a cold, blank stare in response.

I suppose I'm going to have to get used to the fact that not everyone I'm nice to is going to be nice to me in return - especially not in a city where (as I've written before) the focus is on the individual. I was just surprised that the coldness came from a co-worker when everyone else I work with has been open and receptive to my arrival.

Musical Atrocities (Day 14)

First, I was serving a drink to a couple of asian girls, when I noticed one was wearing a Rolling Stones tongue logo T-Shirt. As I'm a fan of the band, I commented that I liked the shirt. The girl said thanks, and when I asked her, "are you a fan?", she said, "um, I just thought the shirt was cool."

I'm all for fashion, but I can't stand poseurs. I compare this to my store manager talking of a time when everyone walking around New York wore a Yankees cap because they were at the top. If you're really a fan - great, but quite jumping on the bandwagon. Quit wearing clothes for teams, bands or stores you don't actually support because it looks "cool." Real cool comes from not having to think about it, but doing it naturally. I might wear nice things and like to shop, but once I'm out of the shower it still only takes me twelve minutes to get ready. Find your own style - don't fake someone else's.

Which leads me to the next atrocity...

I was talking to Kayla (a co-worker), and I mentioned that I was happy to be able to hear Tom Waits on our music system at work, to which Kayla responded, "who's Tom Waits?"

"You've...never...heard...Tom Waits?", I questioned, and she affirmed with a "Nope. What's he like?"

It took me a minute,but i eventually told her that if you walked into a bar in New Orleans and saw someone leading a band through blues-rock, old-time, and 1940's piano music, all based on the darker side of life,and sung with a voice like that of Louis Armstrong - that would be Tom Waits. Kayla said she thought it sounded interesting, and I told her I'd play some for her sometime because she needs ot hear it. After work I went home and made a sort of "Tom Waits' Greatest Hits" playlist that I'll eventually burn for her.

Sadly, I haven't figured out to post mp3's on my blog yet (if anyone knows, please tell me). If you're like Kayla and don't know who Tomm Waits is, go to Google or You Tube and search him (note: "Tom Waits Live" works well in You Tube), you won't regret it.

5.13.2007

If I Could Stick This Pen In My Heart (Day 13)

I suppose this actually has more to do with my hometown than New York. To put this in perspective, about ten years ago I met someone and for a long time we knew we cared deeply for each other but were never able to make it work.

During the period of time when we first met, I wrote a (bad) poem for her. I've forgotten everything except the title, but every so often this person and I strike up a virtual conversation and every so often it comes up that she's kept the poem all this time.

Through the miracle of the internet, her and I are now "friends" on myspace.com. Late at nite sometime this past week, I was filling out a survey she posted and had the opportunity to use the title of the poem for one of the answers. The next day I had a comment on my page telling me she still had the poem. It made me do some thinking and the following is the message I sent to her.

---

Thanks for the message about the poem - long time ago, huh? I think it's been ten years this past spring that we met, actually. If that doesn't make both of us feel old, I don't know what will.

I don't remember what it said, but I'm glad you kept it all this time because I don't have anything tangible from those years of my life anymore. While I'm happy where I am now, I've spent a lot of time running away from Lancaster. I've denied being from there, I've dropped my number of visits a year and how long they are, and have either lost touch with or alienated my close friends from that area. I go there to see my family, and a friend of mine who lives in Ephrata.

I am glad to have been able to strike up a virtual conversation with you on here, though. It's funny how even with multiple, elongated breaks in our decade long friendship, I'm still able to pour out my heart on the page to you.

That's what being told you kept a poem I wrote for you ten years ago does for me, I suppose. It doesn't make me go all weepy, it doesn't make me feel like blushing, and it doesn't make me question if we were in love then, are still in some way now, or ever will be again (I think we've both outgrown that.)

What it does is remind me that there's more memories than those of denials, lost connections and alienation. I had some good times while I lived there, and you have a small piece of my history to prove that. It's more than I have, and honestly, sometimes it's nice to be reminded of it.

Thanks and Love
G.

5.12.2007

Shots Fired (Day 12)

I've heard a lot of things coming from the street while staying at Josh's place for the past twelve days - Police records at 2am, 90's house music at 9am, Rap music during the days on the weekends, and the sounds of a large crowd in the nearby Prospect Park on occasion just to name a few.

Last nite, however, I heard my first gunshots. It was 2:45am, and all of a sudden...

BAM!

(pause)

BAM! BAM! BAM!

(pause)

BAM!

Five shots.

I asked Josh about it this morning, and he hadn't heard it. Cait later told me that the sound woke her up, and that by the time she processed it, she was hearing a commotion - though she didn't know if it was people who were involved, or just the sounds of other neighbors talking about the noise.

One of the last things my mom told me to do before I moved here was to "get some [pepper] spray." I rolled my eyes then, and I still would now. I don't feel any less safe now than I did before hearing the gunshots. When I was a junior in college, a man was killed outside the hot dog shop that was below the dorms I was an RA in. It didn't stop me from walking the street then, and it wont' stop me now.

That said, however, I do realize that I am crashing at an apartment in an area of town that when Jamie, one of my fellow supervisors, heard where I was staying, she said to me, "You live in the ghetto!" While no one here has bothered me - in fact most people have either ignored me or been pleasant to me - I do stick out like a sore thumb around here, and so while I'm not afraid to walk down the streets, I will be moving as if I had even more of a purpose than I had before.

"So That's Why You're So Nice." (Day 11)

I've been finding that it's not so much that New York customers are rude (though there has been some of that - you know who you are Mr. Chinese-Man-With-The-Thick-Accent-I-Tried-To-Help-And-When-You-Got-Frustrated-With-Me-You-Threatened-To-Strike-Me-With-A-Cup-Carrier.) ), it's that they're self-involved to the point of a) not noticing how what they say may sounds to you, and b) not caring what you have to say to them. With a population of 8 million - and close to double that during business hours - the city as a whole is geared towards the individual because everyone is too busy to think of anyone else.

I suppose it's odd to me that this has caried over into the world of customer service, a job which by definition is about serving the needs of the customer. I've found, however, that when someone orders, say, a tall (small, 12 oz.) coffee, and I ask, "do you need room for cream?", I get one of the following responses:

a) Silence - ...save for the sound of the customer rejoining their cell phone conversation, or perhaps not that, but doing whatever it was they were doing with their PDA before they ordered. Either way, my attention to their needs is ignored.

b) "What?" - The customer does not understand what I'm asking. In this situation I generally have to repeat myself in a slower than usual voice at least twice before getting either a "yes" or "no."

c) Surprise - In this situation, the customer hears me, answers my question and then tells me that no one ever asks them this question.

One customer and I even had a quick discussion about this where I told her I had just moved here and she said, "Oh, so that's why you're so nice."

It turns out she was from Canada, so she was quite nice as well. It will be interesting to see if this is purely an out of towner thing, or if there are some genuinely nice New Yorkers as well. The real problem will be that being in a city where the focus is on the individual, it may be hard to ever find out.

5.09.2007

Year One "Hires" It's First Staff Member - Collaboration Ensues (Day Ten)

My day was uneventful until this afternoon. I only got out of bed around noon, (aside from the brief time I was awake due to Josh's neighbors blasting 90's house music at nine in the fucking morning), and didn't get around to doing anything until 2pm when I headed into Manhattan to stop by my Starbuck's and say farewell to Amy the red-headed theater geek.

Later in the afternoon, however, I had a discussion with my friend, Lisa, who offered me some creative advice for this humble little blog. We talked a bit at first, and then concluded a few hours later The conversation went like this:

Ok, I meant to put My and Lisa's instant messenger conversation in this spot, but apparently it shows up in all black in blogspot. When I tried to fix it the text got all fucked up, and as it's almost 1am when I'm posting this, I didn't care enough to figure it out. Suffice it to say that Lisa offered her services, I accepted and told her she was my first "staff member." She asked if there was money involved, and I said know. Luckily, she's a decade long friend who loves me a lot.

So, it's my pleasure to announce the addition of Ms. Lisa Gorman to Year One's staff. Primarily she'll be a sounding board for not only myself, but you readers as well. An accomplished blogger herself, she may even help me with some conceptual work on future pieces - hell, I might even be able to entice her to guest blog every so often.

You can view Lisa's blog here. I'll be posting her e-mail address soon so that any of you with comments, concerns, questions or suggestions can direct them to her.

Day Nine

11:01am - I get out of bed later than I wanted to, text Joe to tell him that I'll be in the city around noon if he wants to grab lunch before he goes to Spain. I grab some breakfast, check my e-mail, and as it's my first day working at Starbuck's, I decide to forgo the shower figuring I'll be smelling of stale espresso by the time I get back to Josh's apartment.

11:35am - I leave the apartment and call Joe, who hasn't returned my text. It turns out he's sleeping, so we decide that we'll hang out when he gets back from Spain. I text Josh and let him know I'll be in the city if he wants to hang out on his break.

12:17pm - I arrive outisde of Josh's work and we han gout for a few minutes before he goes back to work. Not having much to do, I meander up 7th Ave. figuring I'll grab lunch somewhere.

12:43pm - I go into the Subway (restaurant) on 7th and get in line. Subway's are virtually the same in NEW York, except that you don't stand around deciding what you want or else the workers will proalby skip you. I go with Turkey on wheat and progress through the line

1:05pm - Upon leaving Subway, I begin walking further up 7th Ave. Julie send me a tet message from Pittsburgh telling me she's bored. I give her a call and proceed to tell her about some of the craziness that is New York City. I continue walking until I'm in Times Square, which then gives me more things to talk to her about. She's one of my closest friends, so it's great to talk to her. I tell her I miss her and love her and start walking back down 7th to my first day of work at Starbuck's.

1:55pm - I arrive for my first shift at Starbuck's. As expected, everyone I work with is super cool, and the store single-handedly changes my opinion aobut being attracted to black women, as I would sleep with any and all of the black women I work with.

One person I have fun getting to know is a girl named Amy. It's actually kind of sad, because her last day is near, but towards the end of the nite Amy the red-headed theater geek and I talk about the Beatles, how much we hate Times Square and how much myspace comes in handy.

10:07pm - I head down the stairs to the 34th St. subway stop and wait for a Q train. I see my first New York City rat scampering about the train ttracks. I name him NYCky. I'm not sure if the Q train ran over him, or if he made it to safety in time. If not, R.I.P. NYCky.

10:55pm - I get back to the apartment in time for the Daily Show. I'm dead tired, and around midnite, I decide to crash.

5.07.2007

Day Eight

9:10am - I roll intot he temp agency a few minutes later than i wanted to and say hi to Christine, the girl who works the desk there. She tells me about an electronic music show her friend from Juliard put on for a class project over the weekend. Jesus, she's cute, and I wish I culd find free elctronic music shows to go to. I take my "ProveIt" test - which, aside from the part about Microsoft Word, sucks ass.

10:55am - During my testing session I received a call from the store manager at Starbuck's, so as I finish up, I begin calling him back. He tells me I got a great recommendation from my old store in Pittsburgh (thanks, Jocelyn!), and offers me my shift supervisor position back at his store. The only let down is that he's not sure how much he's paying me yet, as he needs approval from his bosses ot pay me at a higher rate based on my experience. We discuss my schedule, and my first day is tomorrow (Tuesday) from 2pm to 9:30pm.

12:02pm - I meet up with Josh to hang out on his break and deliver the good news. We discover that it was exactly 6 days and 19 hours that I was jobless in New York City - pretty good, we think.

2:56pm - Getting ready to leave the Border's at MSG, I hear the following conversation:

Middle-aged man (to couple): "...now this - this is one of my favorite records."
Male part of couple: "Oh, yeah?"
Middle-aged man: "Yeah, the Clash, man. London Calling is just so great. I mean, you know, the Clash didn't get boring as they got older, you know? Most bands get boring as they get older - they all do. They're all boring now. (pause). Well, I mean, other than U2. They haven't' gotten boring yet."

3:35pm - While taking the R train into the Village to meet up with Joe, Laurel - a cute, petite, 19 year old Columbia University student - sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation with me after conferring with me about the destination of the train. As it turns out, she's thinking of becoming a literature major with a possible double in theater. I immediately wish her well in her Starbuck's career path.

Laurel is originally from California, where she tells me she's heading back to later in the week just before I can ask her to join Joe and I for a cup of coffee. We shake hands and part ways and wish each other well.

I need to stop meeting women on the subway...

4:01pm - I meet up with Joe and after a a slight issue at a local Chase Bank, and overhearing a strange phone call between he and his ex (who is also my friend) - wherein it comes out that she and a bunch of people Joe and I know in Pittsburgh decided to go and get fucked up on a bunch of blow last nite - we grab a couple of Iced Lattes and a (stale) soft pretzel and sit around talking and people (girl) watching at the NYU fountain in Washington Square.

5:21pm - Joe and I start walking towards Union Square where he meets up with his girlfriend (Anya).

Now, Joe had told me about how his girlfriend was a hot, blond, 29 year old, Polish, London model turned lawyer. He even showed me a picture the other nite when I was visiting him. No disrespect to my best friend, but none of that prepared me for just how incredibly hot his girlfriend actually is.

I spend a minute or two being introduced and having my past few days summarized to Anya, and then Joe and she head out to a Peruvian restaurant for their last date before Joe goes to Spain for a week to visit his family. I head down the steps to the subway and catch a Q train back to Brooklyn where Josh, Cait and I have an uneventful evening.

5.06.2007

Day Seven

10:18am - I wake up later than I wanted to and grab a quick shower.

10:47am - I head out and take the Q train into Midtown for my second interview with Starbuck's.

11:33am - I get into Midtown a little early, so I decide to try and find some breakfast - or at least some juice as my throat is killing me. 7th Ave. is fairly empty and a lot of the little shops are closed so I have to walk an extra block or two to an open news stand.

On my way up, there's a group of slow-moving adults taking up the majority of the sidewalk. The square around 40th St. lends me the oppurtunity to pass by them, however upon moving to pass them, I hear one of the women say, "...ask him where Levy Place is!" It's at this point that I speed up so as not to have to answer their question. I don't know where Levy Place is anyway.

I get to the news stand and pay $2.10 for a 16oz. Welch's Juice Drink. It kind of hurts, but it's Mango Passion Fruit and really good.

12:12pm - During my interview, a panhandler comes into the store and starts asking customers for change. The assistant manager informs him he can't do that in the store, and the man leaves shouting, "Fuck you, you fucking fat piece of shit bitch."

12:27pm - While standing outside Starbuck's (after my interview), I start to hear the faint sound of the song, "I Want to Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston. I turn ot my left to see a bandanna-clad black man blasting the song on the boombox he's carrying on his shoulder.

2pm - After doing some window shopping to figure out how much new work clothes will cost me, I hop a Q train back to Brooklyn.

The rest of the day has been pretty relaxing. I showed Cait how to cook steak and steam asparagus while making dinner for her, Josh and I. We've played some guitar, done some writing, made some phone calls and all in all had a nice Sunday evening.

5.05.2007

Day Six

After my long day yesterday, today was kind of a "do nothing" day. I woke up around 11 and sat around until about 3 or so when I finally got a shower. Around 4:30 Josh and I headed down to the village to check out the Virgin Megastore, find some used bookstores and girl watch. We ended up talking quite the walk around Manhattan, and ended up in Midtown only to head back to Josh's place around 7pm.

We got back to the apartment around 7:30pm, hung out, ate some pizza, listened to tunes and I wrote a silly, little song called, "This is the Song I'm Writing For Josh's Video Game."

Day Five

12:07am - I call my dad around midnite New York time since he's on business in Salt Lake City. My dad answers the phone asking me "what's wrong?'. I tell him "nothing" and ask why he askes. It turns out he's not in Salt Lake City, but rather back home, on my time and I just woke him up. I apologize and tell him I'll call him in the morning. I go back to sleep.

9:06am - I get off the #3 train at Wall St. looking for Blind and Visual Services at Exchange Place. I find it and meet with a man named Harvey, whom I had spoken to while preparing to leave Pittsburgh. We discuss my seeing a Low Vision Specialist to determine whether or not I'm legally blind and will therefore qualify for benefits from the state of New York. He gives me the number of a doctor, we tal a bit more and I head back up to Midtown.

10:03am - I call my dad and apologize for waking him up the nite before. I tell him abou the interview with Jet Blue before we both have to go, and I duck into ta subway station.

10:35am - As I get off the train at Penn Station, I decide it'd be a good idea for me to buy my first $76 MTA monthly pass. The Metrocard machine I try to use isn't accepting debit cards, though, so I hold off and decide to walk up to where my temp agency interview is, so as to make sure I know where I'm going. Along the way I stop at the 42 St. - Times Square subway to try to buy my Metrocard, and this time it works. I continue on my walk and find my way to the temp agency.

11:15am - A branch of the New York Public Library is right next door to the temp agnecy, so I stop in to see if I can get a library card. I talk to a woman at the information desk who tells me to hold off until I have a pay stub, so that I can prove residency.

11:45am - I get to my interview at Starbuck's a few minutes early. The manager is finishing up some things, and ends up running a few minutes late. The interview goes well, and at the end of it I'm told that the New York area has had a lot of store managers who have quit, which led to a lot of assistant managers getting promoted, so a lot of stores are in need of supervisors and assistant managers. I'm told that I have to meet with this store's assistant manager on Sunday, but that if all goes well, I'll be hired back as a supervisor - possibly at an increased rate - with a high probability of getting promoted to an assistant manager position sooner than later. I leave, with a follow up interview planned for Sunday at noon and with decision expected to be made by Monday.

2:15pm - I decide to celebrate with a lunch from White Castle =)

2:45pm - I decide to head up to the Border's book store at MSG to kill a few minutes before going to the temp agency. While sitting an isle, reading a Time magazine, a young-ish black woman comes into the isle talking to herself. I glance up, and she apologizes for talking to herself. I tell her that I talk to myself all the time, and from there she starts telling me about a term paper she has to due the following day. It's a four page paper on any human behavior and she's looking for an easy paper topic and reference materials.

Without trying to be crass, I tell her that if she wants an easy paper, she should consider human sexuality and getting her hands on the Kinsey Report. I'm not quite sure how, but somehow I end up walking around the isles with her, trying to help her find her book. After a while we can't find it, and she thanks me for my help and checks with the information desk.

3:30pm - I have my interview with the temp agency. Nothing special other than the fact that all the female staff members there are super cute.

5pm - I take the Q train to Union Square and meet up with my friend Joe in the Village. As we have'nt seen each other in months, we hang out for a long time - starting at a place in the VIllage where we have a coupel fo Guiness' and shoot some pool, after which we take the R train up to Bay Ridge where he shows me around his neck of the woods. We sotp at his place, play some guitar, watch some baseball and head to a place called Kitty Kiernan's on 3rd Ave. in Bay Ridge. It's a cool place that seems Irish but is actually Polish, with a cute bartender, good tunes ont eh jukebox and neighborhood types at the bar. Joe and I talk school, work and women over a few more pints of Guinness and at a few minutes after midnight, we put our glasses down and head out.

12:06am - Before Joe and I can step away from the table, two men shouting at each other in Polish come around from the bar area and into the seating area grasping at each other's shirts. One of my and Joe's chairs gets knocked over, and a few other patrons try to pull the men from each other. They fail, and the men end up back near us, and suddenly Joe and I are aiding in the break-up. The men get separated, and one goes outside. For the most part, the staff seems to have everything under control, and Joe and I leave.

12:20am - After stopping for a bag of chips and a drink, I get on the R train at 95th St. and ask the indie-rock girl sitting near the door if I'm on the right train. She takes a second to explain the late nite route to me and I thank her.

Some guys on the R start heckling the indie-rock girl, and she's obviously beginning to get frustrated. It's at this that I notice she's wearing an eye patch, which, while I don't generally see people walking around with them on, I remember a time when I had gone to an eye doctor and had to wear one for some reason, so while it's what the assholes on the R are bugging her about, it doesn't bother me any.

The important part is that this girl becomes my personal hero by giving shit back to these guys without losing her cool. An empty cup of coffee she has keeps falling over and I offer to take it and put it in my empty plastic bag, and she thanks me. The train comes to a stop, and the driver announces that the car is out of service a stop before it's supposed to, forcing us all to make a transfer.

Once on the platform, the guys approach her and half-heartedly apologize while continuing to harass her. Finally, they leave and after a minute or two I ask her if she's ok. She says, "Why? My eye patch?" I kind of chuckle and say, "No, because of those assholes over there. I don't give a fuck about your eye patch." We continue to talk, and hop the N train together while beginning to talk about Music.

I confirm my suspicions and discover that she is indeed into indie-rock, which prompts me to ask, "So, I hope you don't think this is creepy, but you were nice to me and you like good music - do you want to be friends?" She kind of laughs, tells me her name is Zoe, and we exchange phone numbers.

I ask Zoe what she does, and what she goes to school for, and it's then that she says, "I'm actually only graduating high school."

Now, honestly, I was only talking to this girl because she was nice to me and liked the same music as I did. I wasn't out searching the subways late at nite for potential girlfriends or sexual partners, or anyone really. I made friends with a stranger through a mutual love of the same music.

That being said, Zoe is only 17, and I kind of feel weird about the whole thing. As we parted at her final stop, we shook hands and I still told her I'd call her, though. So I'll have to think about it some more, I suppose.

1:25am - I get home, eat a sandwich and fall asleep.

5.03.2007

Day Four

7:36am - I wake up and check my e-mail. Today is the day - My first job interview in New York. I hit the shower, throw on my shirt and tie, hang out with Josh for a bit, take my Lithium, try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, and head for the train station.

9:06am - As soon as the train pulls away from the station, I realize something isn't right. The butterflies aren't going away, I can barely stomach my morning Diet Coke and I'm starting to feel all the color fade from my face.

Me: (woozy) "Hey man, there are more B and Q trains coming behind this one, right?
Josh: "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Me: "The trains, there are more of them, right?"
Josh: "Uh, yeah."
Me: "Ok, I'm feeling sick. I'm gonna get off here. I'll call you later."
Josh: "You'll call?"
Me: "Yeah. I gotta go."

I get off the train three stops from where I started and immediately lean up against the wall with my back towards the tracks, and my head resting against the forearm that's against the wall. After a few minutes the dizziness and nausea pass. I let one train go by, and take hte one after that. As Josh was my guide for transferring to the F train to get me to Queens, I have ot fend for myself now.

I should explain that I'm ot claustrophobic, nor do I get nervous before interviews. I'm fairly certain that between feeling crappy for the past day or so, and having only recently started my normal medication regiment again, I felt some of the side effects. As far as that goes, the rest of the day was uneventful.

10:20am - Finding my connection to the F train in Manhattan was a breeze. I arrive in Forest Hills, Queens a little more than an hour and a half early for my interview, decide to find the building my interview is in and then go exploring. Forest Hills seems a bit more like small town than Prospect Park (Brooklyn) in that there are little shops along the street, it's not nearly as dirty, and the streets are tree lined. All the blues and greens stand out it all looks sort of quaint, I suppose. I find a produce stand, buya pear for breakfast and after walking around a bit, sit down and people watch.

11:30am - I find my interview, sign in and sit in teh waiting area. The Jet Blue team is running a bit behind schedule as my interview was scheduled for noon, and I only get started around 12:20. I meet Danny, the fourth Jet Blue recruiter I've spoken with in two months, who looks over my identification forms, resume and high school transcripts.

Danny gets started with my interview, and within ten minutes, two of the other recruiters I've spoken with stop in, apologize for interrupting, but say how uch they wanted to meet me. I'm suer they do this for most applicants, but still it's a nice gesture. One of them even tells me a part of Forest Hills ot check out after I get out of the interview.

After answering Danny's questions, he sends me down the hall for a drug test, and tells me to stop by the front desk for fingerprinting on my way out. It catches me off guard that both of these are done in-house on the day of the interview, but nonetheless, I take part in the proverbial pissing in a cup, find out within a minute that I've passed, go and get fingerprinted, and after spending a little more than two and a half hours at the Jet Blue headquarters, head out to explore more of Queens.

2:01pm - I head toward s71st Ave. off of Queens Blvd. which is where one of the recruiters told me to check out. I stop in a music shop along the way and look at all the pretty guitars I can't afford for a few minutes and continue along my way to 71st Ave. which I reach about 10 minutes later.

71st Ave. is a little strip of a street with retailers, local shops and restaurants. The one thing I notice about this section of town, is that unless you want something a little more upscale for eats, you're looking at grabbing a slice of pizza somewhere. While trying ot decide what to eat for lunch over a quad espresso, I come upon a Subway and decide to go with a sandwich.

3pm - One of the biggest differences in New York is that while there area lot of places to go, there is also the better part of ten million people who live in the city, which means that most establishments get crowded easily - well known chains even more so. After getting my six inch combo, I realize my only option is to sit at a table with an older woman, who after a few minutes, asks me to open her package of crackers for her, and starts a conversation about my cell phone. She seems nice, and we chat until I finish, and decide to text Josh to tell him I'm going to try and get myself home on my own tonite.

3:32pm - I begin my trek back to Brooklyn and catch the F train to 34th St.

3: 57pm - Approaching the platform for the Q train at 34th St. I notice a hot Asian woman wearing black boots on the platform. I glance her way, turn, and then notice she's approaching me. She asks me if I know if the R train on the opposite side of the platform is going towards the Financial District. Immediately the words "HOT, RICH ASIAN GIRLFRIEND" scroll through my head. I look up at the sign for the R and see it says, "Bay Ridge - 95th St." I tell her I think sh e needs to be on the other side of the station, catching the R the other way.

She leaves and I start to feel like i may have been wrong. I ask another woman next to me who tells me the Hot, Rich, Asian Girlfriend was right all along. Seeing as I don't know my way around quite yet, and she apparently doen'st either, I feel a certain responsibility to find her and correct my mistake. I head towards the R train on the track heading towards Queens, but can't find her. Hopefully she found her way to the financial district without much of a delay or inadvertent detour. If she's out there - I'm sorry.

I head back to my original platform and start hearing an announcement over the PA system telling commuters that "Due to an Investigation at 14th St. - Union Station" that a bunch of trains would be running late and skipping that stop in both directions. My Q train is indeed late, and therefore crowded, but I get home without incident. When Cait and Josh get home, I ask them if they heard what was going on at Union Station. They kind of laugh and tell me that it won't be in the news, and that that sort of thign happens often, without incident.

Tomorrow I have my interviews with Starbuck's at 39th & 7th,, and with the tagency. I might try to make it down to Lower Manhattan to meet with Blind and Visual Services, too.

Day Three

I was actually sick in bed all day today. I have a stuffy nose and my shoulders are sore, and from what Josh tells me, "probably inflamed." I took 2 Tylenol and 4 Ibuprofen. Between that and the re-runs of Law & Order and Star Trek that I took in, I'm starting to feel a bit better.

Food today consisted of water and 9 thin mints before Josh came home. Then he took me on my first trip to the ghetto supermarket.

As a ghetto supermarket goes, it had a decent selection. Also, one thing I'm finding funny in New York is that certain things are more expensive, while other things are not. For instance, tuna fish is 99 cents a can as apposed to, say 79 cents in Pittsburgh. However, fresh asparagus was $2.50 a bunch as opposed to $3.99 in Pittsburgh. Maybe it's just the season, though.

The high point of the ghetto supermarket is the gorgeous 17 year old, latina cashiers. My first day I met a 16 year old, my 3rd day a 17 year old. Maybe by Friday I'll actually have a conversation with someone legal.

I cooked burgers and fries for my and Josh's dinner. Then I checked my e-mail and found out that Lisa will be here over the weekend, so perhaps I'll be seeing her again sooner than I thought. Also, tonite's LOST was awesome.

Tomorrow I have my interview with Jet Blue in Queens. I'm assuming this adventure will lend itself to more stories.

5.01.2007

Day Two

9:06am - After a crowded and uneventful train ride into midtown, I receive my first free New York newspaper - AM New York. It's nothing special, and in fact, most people seem to take them just to throw them away. It's cool to live in a city with a free morning paper, though. I head to Madison Square Garden with Josh, and as he goes into work he leaves me with a, "go get lost in the city and I'll see you here at noon."

9:20am - I head into Penn Station and get an application for the Starbuck's there. As I used to work for one in Pittsburgh, and as there are 170 in the Manhattan area, I figure it's a good place to start the job search with.

11:03am - Walking down 6th Ave. I see a man handing out fliers for "jobs." I take one, figuring it can't hurt, go to move on and he begins asking me questions. The conversation goes something like this:

Job Man: "Hey, my man, you think you can handle security work?"
Me: "Uh, sure."
Job Man: "Are you looking for full or part time?"
Me: "Uh, anything, really."
Job Man: "Full time. You ever been in trouble with the law?"
Me: "No."
Job Man: "You have any previous security experience?"
Me: "No."
Job Man: "That's alright, we can train you and get your security license for a small fee of $80. Is that ok?"
Me: "Today it's not, no."
Job Man: [pulls out clipboard] "That's ok, too. What's your name and phone number?"
Me: [I give him both]
Job Man: "I'm-a have my boss call you tonite between 5 and 9. He'll set up an interview with you for any time you're available. Bring your ID, Social Security [card], and the $80 - Cash, money order, cashier's check, debit or credit card - no personal checks."
Me: "Uh, ok. What's your name?"
Job Man: "I'm Mr. Cisco", [shakes hand].
Me: "Ok, thanks."

I walked away and into a Bank of America on 6th and Broadway.

11:07am - I check my balance with the teller at BOA to see fi my mom got my e-mail about floating me $20 until my unemployment comes in. She hasn't.

11:10am - I call my mom to see if she's checked her e-mail. She has and will give me some money later today. I talk to my little brother and sister. My brother asks me, "Have you been to Manhattan, yet? I tell him, "I'm actually calling you from Manhattan right now." He thinks I'm cool.

11:14am - I make my way down to 7th Ave. (aka - Fashion Ave.) and walk to 39th St. where I come across another Starbuck's. I go in and start filling out an application.

11:45am - I decide to wait until I meet up with Josh at noon to turn in my most recent application as he's bringing me copies of my resume and cover letter. Not remembering how quick the walk is, I leave this Starbuck's and head out to meet him.

11:49am - The walk was faster than I anticipated, so I decide to stop into the nearby McDonald's and grab some grub off the dollar menu for Josh and I. I order 4 items and the cashier says, "$7.87." I look at her and say, "Oh, you don't have a dollar menu here?" She says, "no", and I tell her ot forget the order.

11:51am - Right outside the McDonald's, at the intersection of 34th and 7th, an older, Korean woman stumbles and falls in the middle of the intersection. I rush up and grab her by her right arm and help her up and out of the way of traffic. She thanks me. Later I wonder what would have happened had that McDonald's had a dollar menu.

12:01pm - I meet up with Josh who delivers my resumes and cover letters. He even hit "auto staple" on the copier. He is a god among men.

12:40pm - Josh goes back to work and text messages me the phone number for two temp agencies. I snag my first hot dog from a vendor and head back to 39tha nd 7th with my resume and cover letter to add to my application. I turn them in and call the temp agencies who both tell me to e-mail my resume to them.

1:12pm - I leave Starbuck's and make my way towards Times Square.

1:15pm - Jesus Fuck Christ! Everything's gigantic and blinking! Can I have an epileptic seizure without a history of epilepsy? What the --- Is that a giant, almost life-sized, red lobster a top the Red Lobster sign??? This is like Disneyworld on bad acid and business classes. I need to get out of here. Oooh! The Cingular store! Pretty phones...

1:34pm: I make my way towards the H & M store on 33rd and 7th and do some window shopping for a bit.

1:58pm - A man on the street asks, "Sir, can I ask you a question?" I look at him blankly as I keep walking. He repeats himself and this time I say, "no." He asked two already.

2:04pm: I head to the Borders Book Store at Madison Square Garden and ask for an application. They too tell me to submit my application and resume online. I head upstairs to the cafe to put my bag down and look through some paperwork.

3:30pm - It's nice outside today, yet every store I go into feels like the heat is still on. I feel myself starting to doze, so I decide it's time to check my bank account and see if I can buy a Red Bull. I get to the BOA across the street and check my balance with a teller again. My mom put $40 in my account when I only asked her for $20. Woot!

4:47pm - After an uneventful ride back to Brooklyn with Josh, I'm still having the hankering for some McDonald's, and with my new found riches, I decide to splurge as I feel my phone vibrate with a text message. This McDonald's has a dollar menu, but nothing with beef is on it, so I go with a #4 combo. When I get my drink it's in a plastic bag which I find odd and useless. I leave the plastic bag on the counter and head back to Josh's place.

5:05pm - I get back to Josh's apartment and go to check my text message only to find out it was actually a missed call and a new voicemail. It turns out to be the store manager with the Starbuck's at 39th and 7th in midtown, and he wants an interview with me. I call him back, and we set up a time for the interview. I've been in the city for just over 25 hours.

6pm - After dinner I check my e-mail and see a response from a girl I talked with about a Park Slope apartment in March. She tells me she's set on roommates, but that she'll keep her eyes and ears open for me. Even if it turns out to be an empty promise, it's still a nice thing to have said to you by a relative stranger.