September 15, 2002

11:15 A.M.:  A pigeon walks onto the 1 train at 242nd street and gets off at 215th street.  What a lazy feathery sack of bird shit.

April 20, 2003

5:30 P.M.:  During afternoon rush hour, a stranger gains access to the p.a. system.  “We are on 140 motha-fuckin 5th street.  Eat my motha-fuckin dick.”  Everyone laughs, except three tourists from the midwest.

September 3, 2003

11:35 P.M.:  I stole a Chappelle’s Show subway poster.  It hung in my dorm room for two years.

November 10, 2003

6:25 P.M.:  It was a busy night.  First, there was a three piece mariachi band, then a woman trying to sell batteries in plastic wrap, then a stuttering guy insisted on telling me a Michael Jackson joke, “What did the man on the beach say to Michael Jackson?  Hey!  Get out of my sun.”

December 11, 2003

4:00 A.M.:  Friend goes in-between cars to smoke a cigarette.  Decides to stay in-between cars for duration of half hour trip.  Every time the subway door opens, we hear snippets of a heartfelt rendition of Jessie’s girl.

July 10, 2003

10:00 A.M.:  Skinny girl, glances mistakingly at fat girl on the 6 train.  Fat girl responds, “Don’t look at me bitch, I got grandkids older than you.”  Skinny girl gets up and punches fat girl right in the face.  A geeky guy wearing cargo shorts  with a tucked in polo shirt frantically hits the red emergency button to report the melee.  I laugh.

May 5, 2004

8:00 P.M.:  While sitting on the couch eating UTZ snack mix, a female friend tells me about guy across from her on a train, who placed his penis out of his pants.  She is mortified, nothing happens to the guy.

August 2004 – June 2005

I leave New York City for a really long time

October 23, 2005

1:10 A.M.:  Getting sleepy, I accidentally pass out on the 1 train for 100 blocks.  I wake up surrounded by four rather large woman.  Nextel walkie-talkies were on the brink of extinction, until a muffled voice woke me from a Bud Ice induced fog.  “Who you with, where you at?”  “I said, who you with, where you at?”  Groggily, I waited for the woman to hit the respond, leaned over and chimed in, “SHE’S WITH ME!”  I made four friends that night and one great big enemy.

January 7, 2006

2:00 A.M.:  My friend receives a birthday card from his sister with a $100 bill.  As a group, we leave the bar and head back uptown.  No longer able to hold his bladder, my friend  wanders in-between subway cars to pee.  A man approaches him and shows a police badge.  They get off at the next stop; we forget about him.  Man shows him a gun and demands money.  Friend now realizes it was a fake badge.  Man takes birthday money and hands him back the card.  Friend waits 50 minutes for next train.

February 2008 – September 2010

Giants win Super Bowl 42, and again, I leave New York City for a really long time.

January 13, 2011

Time unknown:  Homeless man falls asleep on subway and rat crawls on his face:  Ewwww!

June 17, 2045

11:15 A.M.:  Pervert hangs dong on crowded subway- becomes saddened when repulsive act goes unnoticed because straphangers are occupied with I-Pod 40, and 3-D sunglasses with built in TV.  Fed up by the lack of attention, the man becomes frustrated and decides to steal everyones wallet instead.

Deep Fried Mars Bar

Looks like poop, tastes like a party. Buy one for $2.50 at Lil’ Britain in Bennington, VT.

Every summer my Facebook feed alerts me of friends and family going to “the Cape.”  That sounds great, and I admit that Cod is a destination I have yet to discover in New England, but I have a conflict.  I grew up vacationing in the Ocean State.  Here is some good advice:  no matter your age, but especially if you are in your twenties, Newport should be on your short list of vacation destinations.  

Rent a cottage, preferably from craigslist.

You don’t have to look for one on the water, just close enough to Thames Street. You can drive to the beach (you can’t always drive home from a bar).  Depending on your location, you can be within walking distance of the cliff walk and the main strip filled with restaurants, bars, and ugh … shopping.  Newport has so many views and places to feast, and quench your thirst, that one week is just a tease.

Salivate here:

Scales and Shells.  This places rocked my face off.  Swordfish Kebabs were the night’s special, and I could not resist.  Katie savored her scallop linguini straight from the pan.  Advertised as Newport’s only “only seafood” restaurant, the menu of fresh catch is displayed neat and proud on a chalkboard.  Pricey, but fair.  Memorable and perfect with a bottle of white.

Night life ends early by New York standards, but you won’t be disappointed with the variety.  The main street and wharfs go something like this: bar, bar, bar, raw bar, raw bar, bar, bar, bar, raw bar.  A bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.

Newport has a reputation of being a bit pricey, but it can be done on the cheap. Sometimes, I search for advice on the chowhound website.  This was a great find- two lobster rolls and fries for $10.99 at First Beach’s snack bar. No joke, it was meaty and delicious.  If you are looking for the best beach, go straight to Second Beach. Clear waters, good waves, and better sea shells.

Walk this way:  for a different landscape, you need to take a stroll along the cliff walk, poke your face through a neatly trimmed bush and drop your jaw at the site of Newport’s royalty.

There is too much more to promote, you get my point though.  Awesome place, lots to do, something different from Cape Cod for a change.  Maybe some day I will wake up to praises on the FB feed about the Ocean State, or maybe I won’t.  Either way I will be happy.  Now wash that down with a Del’s.

I just went to Emack and Bolio’s for the first time.  I’ll have  a six pack of cones, sans ice cream please.

Curious how I know the exact year?  I found a mix tape the other day, shoved it into a walkman (my parents hold on to everything) and mowed their lawn.  I looked sweet – a girl with a buddy band and a scrunchie walked by and asked if I wanted to go to Starburst Roller Skating Rink.

So I listened to both sides.  Apparently, in 1994 I was the master recorder -no commercials, just ultimate song transition. That was kinda sad, but I was able to determine the year by listening to the hit singles.  Now, here it is – your ultimate summer flashback mix:

Side 1 and Side 2 combined and recorded from Street Jams, Top 10 at 10, and Casey Kasem.

SIDE 1: Dr. Dre – Dre Day (heavily edited), Counting Crows – Mr. Jones, Crash Test Dummies – Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm,Beck – Loser, Naughty By Nature, Hip Hop Hooray, US 3 – Cantaloop, Snoop Doggy Dogg – Gin & Juice, Tag Team – Whoop There It Is, Salt and Pepper – Shoop, Red Hot Chili Peppers – Under the Bridge, Salt and Pepper – Whatta Man

SIDE 2: Tom Petty – Last Dance With Mary Jane, Cypress Hill – Insane in the Membrane, Wreckx N Effect – Rump Shaker, Sagat – Funk Dat (I linked this because only 3 people may actually remember this hot jam, without youtube), House of Pain – Jump Around

A sweet bonus track would have been Return to Innocence by Enigma, but I’m not that lucky.  For the record, there was a Zima reference by a DJ, and the only advertisement/announcement on the Fly 92 mix tape was for an R Kelly concert at the Knickerbocker Arena.  Those were the days.

Big Sloppy Mess

You’re looking at a styrofoam container spewing with white hots (hot dogs), home fries, macaroni salad, mustard, onions, and a frightening spicy meat sauce.  The original “Garbage Plate” from Nick Tahou’s is a bargain- for 7 dollars you can feed one Eskimo, or an entire little league team.   You can find the plates all over Western NY, or locally, in Saratoga at PJ’s BBQ. Just ask for the  ”Trash Can” or  the “Dumpster.”

You will never guess who introduced the garbage plate to me- my health conscious girlfriend, who insists on switching my fatty bacon to turkey bacon, and making salads that combine nuts and assorted fruits.  The garbage plate definitely falls under the category of stomach demolishing road food.  My experience was unique in that I casually ordered one on a quiet afternoon.  I barely put a dent in it, but it was well worth the experience.  Recommended eating times are between 10p.m. – 4:00 a.m., preferably after a frat party.

Last night I flew into Phnom Penh, Cambodia from Bangkok, Thailand. Today, I am on a six hour bus to Siem Reap with 40 locals, and two other Westerners. Best six bucks ever spent.

My destination is Angkor Wat, the ancient temple ruins. The driver gave a 10 minute speech in Khmer, then a simple hello and our destination in English.   I understood nothing.  I mention this detail because his microphone had a hilarious echo.  He was like the Cambodian Peter Frampton.

The mic echo transitioned perfectly into Cambodian Karaoke for the next six hours.  Remember, no iPOD, just a variety of chaos to surround me.  Cambodia is a poor country, yet people carry themselves with an indescribable joy. Everyone has the best smile.  Typical first encounter with someone:  I meet them, we laugh about nothing for a minute, then go our separate ways.

The older fellow in the seat next to me refuses to stop smiling. He has literally just been staring at me, and must be overwhelmed by my white skin and freckles. He keeps grabbing my leg and feeling my arm and hand. When you shake someone’s hand, be prepared to continue holding on for at least four minutes. The guy behind me has something interesting going on as well…he’s either on his way out or he’s had the hiccups for three hours.

Okay, now this guy just touched my goatee. It’s getting awfully hard to write. So, bugs are flying around, it’s 95 degrees now, and my eyes are glued outside again. It’s like watching the opening scene of Borat. We are in the middle of the country. Cattle is just roaming around freely. Five people on one motor bike. More than 20 people crammed in on one pickup truck. People will transport everything and anything on a bike – TVs, paint cans, piles of laundry, chickens, you name it.

“Welcome to the Grace Hotel.  Here is your room key.  There is a private party here tonight, but guests of the hotel are welcome to attend.”  Wouldn’t it be grand if this were the greeting at all hotels?

For Valentine’s Day this year I booked a room in the city and some how ended up in Spain at one of Stewie Griffin’s Sexy Parties.

As usual I never know what to expect in the city, but if you are looking for a place to crash with a swim-up bar and a detoxifying sauna, then check out the Grace Hotel in Times Square.  You never hear about places like this when you are a resident, but what do I know.  Since I left,  dumpster swimming in Brooklyn became the latest trend.

After dinner and drinks, Kate and I arrived back at the hotel and were greeted by a tiny man with a clip board.  Expectedly, we were not on the list, thus uninvited to the sexy party, until the bouncer overruled him and said right this way…

Essentially it felt like we escaped the U.S. and had a private party for two.   No one looked our way, we were American and straight.  Nevertheless, we enjoyed two free hours of open bar courtesy of this dude.

In Thailand, a snake refused to leave my $9 dollar hostel room, and that was fine.  I figured this was the norm after the owner said it was harmless, so I told it to stay in the corner, while I slept off a hangover.

This time, on the opposite side of the world, in a standard $150 dollars a night Holiday Inn Express in Philadelphia, my room was invaded again.  This time by a MORON who checked into my room, got comfortable, ironed, and left my room without noticing THAT IT WAS VISIBLY BEING OCCUPIED BY ANOTHER HUMAN BEING!  See for yourself…

(Notice the unmade bed that I just took a nap in!)

Let me note that I had already been staying in this hotel for three days.  I stepped out for a few hours to meet up with my cousin and I came home around 9:00 p.m.  I opened the door and almost knocked over an ironing board that was set up, not by me.  I thought I was in the wrong room, until I noticed all of my stuff, with the addition of someone else’s stuff.   At first I was confused, then thought it was a bit funny, then frightened that someone was going to jump out of the shower and stab me.

Long story short, I called the desk and raised hell.  I had to move my stuff because this stranger was nowhere to be found.  I spoke to the manager the next day and he set me up with a free $400 dollar room in NYC during Christmas.  Well worth the immediate shock.

Later on I found that bed warming was an actual service being offered by Holiday Inns in London.  I like to think of myself as an unexpected recipient of the absolute worst idea in the history of the hotel industry.