...finally the conclusion to our little tale...
So I grabbed a little sleepy time in front of the TV, Diann got all spruced up and we headed into Manhattan to celebrate her birthday at one of my favorite Manhattan bars 7B.
Rather, we tried to get to 7B.
Since the L line is all fucked due to repairs we got to Union Squre, transferred to a train that said it was the number 6 local -- since we were only heading one stop downtown -- and then found ourselves whisked all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge. As one particularly unhappy passenger next to me remarked, "I should have never left the hood." After an even longer wait than we had to endure in Brooklyn for our shuttle train we finally caught another train uptown and walked to rest of the way to the bar where we met our friend Greg.
As far as Manhattan bars go 7B is pretty cool. The music is great, the bartenders have always been really polite and rather generous with the shots and it kind of reminds me of a spruced up Tuman's (R.I.P.) or a slightly grungier Club Foot. Diann had been dreading the place since I had talked so highly of it. As a general rule we don't usually like the same sorts of bars but she was pleasantly surprised with this place.
We amused ourselves with general conversation until I noticed a bad pick-up attempt going on across the bar. Years of working in clubs and the service industry has given me a sort of radar that can pick up body language cues that allow me to pretty accurately produce the back story for most public interaction. It's just one of those things that I can't turn off. Like when I'm out at a restaurant I can scan a room and tell you how friendly our waitperson will be based on the types of folks, the general atmosphere and my guestimate as to just how well the tips are rolling in.I can also tell you when your waitperson really thinks you've undertipped even if they're all smiles and doing the whole, "Come back soon!" sort of thing.
So this awful pick-up attempt is going on. One of the classics. Two girls are sitting together and one leaves for the bathroom. As soon as one leaves pitiful guy sidles up and tries to start conversation. Girl nods and smiles politely and then frantically looks all over the room for something else to occupy her. You see she can't leave because her friend left her coat and purse and the guy making the attempt knows this. Eventually he gets the hint and just stands there dumbly until girl's friend comes back. Why doesn't he walk away? Well after bombing that badly the last thing a guy wants to look is desperate so they'll stick around to sort of cover up for their earlier advances. Aren't we idiots?
So as I'm making fun of this poor schlub a girl walks up to me and asks for a cigarette.
And waits.
Then asks for a light.
And waits.
And waits.
At this point she finally gets the hint that I'm not really interested in chatting her up and she exits stage left as Greg and Diann laugh at me for being the object of yet another lame pick-up attempt.
After this things get a little fuzzy. I know we went to Manitoba's -- owned by Handsome Dick himself -- and I know there were a bunch of crusty biker dudes there and I know that I failed miserably at Ms Pacman but in my defense I want to know who installs a roller ball as a control for a Pacman game? Fiends! At some point Diann and I caught a cab back to her 'hood and -- after a brief stop at Di's favorite fast food establishment located right down the street -- we went back to her place and collapsed into a deep sleep.
Sunday I had agreed to move a load of Diann's stuff to her new Manhattan digs so we got up early, made some muffins and I moved everything into the downstairs hallway so I could just pull her car around and load it up. So I get everything downstairs and go out to get the car.
Only it isn't there.
I do the quick scan to make sure I didn't accidentally park next to a hydrant or in-between some no parking signs I somehow totally missed. I go back in and grab Di and ask her to verify that there is in fact no car parked where it was yesterday.
Nope.
And Diann had just canceled her theft insurance the week before! So we load up my car with her stuff and then head to the neighborhood cop shop to make sure it wasn't towed. For some reason the New York tow yard isn't open on Sunday. So we get to the police station and are standing behind a family making a missing person report for some dude who took a last minute trip to California and never came back. Diann asks if they've tried tracking his bank account activity and they told her he was more of a cash-your-check-at-the-currency-exchange sort of guy. At this point I decide the poor dude is probably dead due to either a) outstanding loans owed to the wrong folks or b) a botched drug deal.
So we get our turn and the cops tell us they don't have her car and hey, didn't you know that Honda's are one of the most popular cars to steal due to the easy interchangeability of parts between different models?
Terrific.
So we drive into Manhattan -- after I searched for the Williamsburg Bridge for an hour -- and moved most of Di's stuff to her new apartment. We grabbed some dinner at Veselka's and took in a late afternoon showing of Lost in La Mancha (which came highly recommended by my little brother who had seen it at the Toronto Film Festival) before heading back to Williamsburg just in time for the Simpsons! Yahoo!
I got up early and drove back to Chicago in about eleven-and-a-half hours. I would've made better time but there was sleet, snow and freezing ice in Indiana and I didn't feel like skidding off the road as I hydroplaned around massive eighteen wheelers
Diann finally filed a police report and gave up her car as lost...until last Friday! She got a call from a Bronx station saying they not only had her car but they also arrested the kid that stole it. It was missing a radiator and a few other parts -- coincidentally the kid happens to own a Honda as well -- and they figured they got him as he was on his way to dump the car somewhere since he was done with it. To add icing to the cake apparently the kid's mom is the principal of a New York high school so I think Diann's chances of being reimbursed for her stolen parts, and the towing fee and the extortion, um I mean storage, fee at the tow yard are pretty good.
Now just wait until next month when my friend Rudy and I head back out to NYC to see a show I set up there with my friends from Combo No. 3!
I'm all typed out for now.
Later on I'll write up my thoughts on the Big Daddy Kane / Killah Priest show I saw last night...I just don't feel like doing it right now.
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