As promised, the rest of the epic weekend.
When we last saw them our intrepid hero (that's me) and his inept, helpless companions (that's my inept helpless companions) had just left JFK. And now the story continues...
We left JFK at two thirtyish and promptly got lost in Queens. So I asked some dudes for directions and finally got pointed towards Manhattan (The directions pretty much were, go straight and stop at the river). We drove over some bridge and managed to get to Manhattan at threeish. The view of the skyline from the bridge was breathtaking, or so I have been told, since I had to keep my eyes glued to the road and could not see the skyline.
Well, it's three in the morning. We are in Manhattan. We have no place to stay and I realize that we are pretty much out of gas. Yes, a nearly empty tank. Yay.
We then decided that it would be prudent for us to get some gas. And this is the US; getting gas should not be a problem should it? This country is in love with the automobile, isn't it? Small hitch. There do not seem to be many gas stations in Manhattan. As a matter of fact, I am now convinced that there is only one gas station in Manhattan. Again I get directions to the gas station from some kind late birds. The place naturally is as far away from our present location as possible, without actually being in the river. After a lengthy struggle, which involves me trying to navigate the one ways and having Divya (person picked up at JFK) hop out and ask for directions from a deli we finally arrive at the gas station.
Naturally the guy in charge at the gas station was a desi.
After a minor struggle to figure out how the pump actually worked, we filled her up and were off on our merry way.
Um...
Not really.
We still did not have a place to stay.
So, we begin the search for a place to stay. Both my passengers are now comatose. We drive up and down Amsterdam Avenue looking for a cheap hotel. Notice the emphasis on cheap. A guy at an all night deli told me about a cheap hotel. Unfortunately his accent was so thick that he might have been telling me about his granduncle's back pain condition for all the sense he made. Another guy at an all-night cafe told me about a cheap place called the Amsterdam Inn.
Ended up there. The cheapest available room cost a hundred and fifty bucks a night. We left.
I finally broke. Called Chinmay's friend. It was now five in the morning. He arranged for us to stay at a friend's place on 109th street. And that is where we finally ended up.
I dropped off the passengers and then spent 10 minutes hunting for a parking place. Made one abortive attempt at parallel parking and then gave up. Finally found a spot on Cathedral Street. Parked there. Before that I was pulled up by a cop on suspicions of being a terrorist (The car had a temporary sticker and permanent plates, which is highly suspicious, I do agree).
I finally hit the sack at five thirty, and sleep the sleep of the dead until I wake at eleven thirty.
We then made another stab at the Amsterdam Inn. The cheapest room is still a hundred and fifty bucks. We decide against it and I make a call to Daya and we get to crash at his place.
We reach his house in Summit at two after I drive the treacherous route from New York with crazy drivers driving at insane speeds. One small deviation, when I missed an exit but we found our way back, and ended up in Summit and peace.
We leave by train for the city a few hours later. We take in Times Square, I was amused a great deal and we arrived back in Summit at three in the morning.
The next day we left for Manhattan again after a smashing brunch provided by Daya. Roamed Manhattan a bit, had to restrain Anusha from going into a gay bar and took the Harbor Lights boat ride, which was truly fantastic. Had dinner at a truly expensive Mexican place and ended up at Times Square again before we returned to Summit.
The conclusion and the exciting fire in the car, in my next post.
Um...
I also wish to reiterate that I did not start the argument on the train.
No comments:
Post a Comment