When I finally made it back home after that extremely long trek, I stayed in NY with Nick until Thursday. I took great joy in the little things of being back in America. I flipped on the TV and ESPN was on. Sportscenter! Pardon The Interruption! I didn’t realize how much I missed those shows until I saw them on the TV screen. I watched PTI like a 4 year old watches eagerly awaited cartoons on a Saturday morning (at least back when they showed cartoons on a Saturday morning!).
Nick was in the midst of moving all his stuff from his Brooklyn apartment to Emily’s apartment in Manhattan near Union Square since they were moving in together. Needless to say, he had a lot of stuff, certainly more than would ever fit into her place, which was already full of her own possessions, knick-knacks, and putzinfraffin.
Nick had several things and boxes to go back home to Faxon St., so Dad came down on Wednesday to pick me up along with Nick’s excess stuff. The only thing was, he drove down with his van already full of random Dad stuff. He neglected to take any of the rear seats out, so there was hardly any room for what Nick wanted to send home. Nick and I were both wondering about Dad- why did he drive 250 miles down here to bring Nick’s stuff back without emptying out the van first? We were stumped. Perhaps there are some things that should never be completely understood, and that suggestion occasionally applies to the enigma of our Dad.
When Nick and I stopped into Pathmark on my first day back, I was like a kid in a candy store. I was so excited and thrilled to see all these foods I hadn’t been able to find or eat in Turkey the past 2 months. Nick said he had hadn’t seen me that buoyantly ecstatic in ages. Baked beans! Raisin Bran Crunch cereal! Italian subs! Frozen pizza! Junior Mints! I could hardly control myself. While I was home, I was also on a mission to eat as much ethnic food as possible- Mexican, Chinese, Italian, Eritrean, whatever I could get my hands on, basically.
Tuesday night, before going to a concert with Nick and Oscar, I met up with Hadley, an old friend of mine from high school who I hadn’t seen in years. He graduated from Brown last year with some sort of degree in psychology and neurobiology, and now he’s living with his girlfriend uptown near Columbia while going for his PhD at NYU. He met us at this chic Thai food place in Union Sq. It sure was good to see him, and good to hear that he’s doing so well.
While walking up to the restaurant, a manhole cover in front of the eatery blasted up from the ground and flew 15 feet into the air. It was pretty creepy. Within minutes there were cavalries of police and firemen on the scene, walking around everywhere. I had never seen anything like it, and soon there were fire trucks all over Union Sq. trying to fix whatever made that man hole cover fly into the air. Luckily, nobody was hurt.
Later that night, Nick, Oscar, and I went over to the Knitting Factory to see this band perform called World Leader Pretend. They’re from New Orleans and Oscar has known these guys for years. He was their manager for a while, and spent some time making a documentary of their rise from a band playing in someone’s basement to getting signed by Warner Brothers Records. Even though their major label debut doesn’t come out until April, the room was pretty full- mostly record company people and insiders according to Oscar. The band was quite good- they reminded me of Radiohead, Coldplay, and Keane all rolled into one. They have some really catchy songs on the new album, so I hope they’re able to find an audience and hit it big. The drummer was an absolute joy to watch- he was so animated and into what he was playing, I couldn’t take my eyes off what he was doing for the entire set.
On Wednesday afternoon I met up with Danielle, a cool girl from NYU who I met last year while working on Lobster Farm, for lunch in the city. I’ve talked to her a good amount in the last year, but I hardly ever get to see her, so it was nice to hang out with her in person, as brief as it was. My Dad rolled into town Wednesday afternoon. He met Nick and I in Manhattan and we drove back to Brooklyn so we could shuttle Nick’s stuff from his old apartment over to Emily’s. Afterwards, we had a great meal at this old tavern aptly called The Old Town Bar, or something very close to that. It’s one of the oldest places to get a drink or something to eat in all of Manhattan, and it had a very cool atmosphere, along with still-functional dumb waiters and a killer burger and fries plate. That’s definitely a place to patronize again.
Dad and I rolled out of NY Thursday morning, but not before stopping by Veselka for a hearty pre-drive home breakfast. God, that place is so good. I had my customary pancakes, and I can’t remember a breakfast hitting the spot so dead on. I’d do anything for a Veselka breakfast right now, considering my breakfast now consists of a glass of water and 2 fiber crackers.
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