New York Journal - Part Three

Okay, seriously. Last one for tonight.


September 17, 2008

Oh god. My head. Oh god.

I was drinking for nearly 12 hours straight yesterday. Been a while since I've done that.

The wedding was lovely! To be continued.

I'm in a vegetarian restaurant, I forget the name, sitting next to an uber-depressing old couple. They're, I dunno, 65 or 70 years old. He doesn't say much. She says plenty. She asked him three times, in slightly different words, if he wanted to share a salad, then expounded on the details of the salad. When he stepped away to take a phone call (she gave him permission to take it outside, then prompted him to leave the table when it rang), she asked the server if there had been renovations to the restaurant since her last visit, three years ago. They had changed the lamps, and painted. She relayed this information to her husband upon his return. They ate in silence, interrupted only by her occasional question, "Do you like it?"

It just seems like they've been together so long, there's nothing left to talk about, which blows my mind. Politics! The impending stock market crash! Gossip! Arts! Bowel movements! There's an infinity of topics to discuss. Silly people. I hope I don't end up like that.

---

I'm now sitting in a park in the East Village. Some lady with a microphone is behind me, ranting about Satan and baptism. Some dude came up to me, said, "I'm sure this nice young man is on the internet. Are you on the internet, young man?" Then, "Are you religious?" Then he handed me a small flyer, with a list of anti-religion websites and books. Hilarious. Love it.

Lady with two dogs is on the bench near me. She's talking to "David", who she thought was trying to avoid her. Whether he was or not, they're chatting now. In New York accents. He called her a putz. Awesome.

Another dog-walker stopped to talk to her a few minutes ago. He introduced his dog. "He ain't had a woman in five years!"

Now she's alone on the bench, giggling to herself.

Got a fuckin' mosquito bite on my fuckin' elbow.

So yeah, the wedding was lovely. The ceremony was in the Secret Garden, a beautiful spot in the north-east corner of Central Park. It was short, and heart-felt. Jania was gorgeous and, yes, glowing. Chris was a handsome devil. A beautiful couple.

I met some cool people, who walked and subway'd with me to the Zipper Factory, a tavern/theatre, for the reception. I hit it off with Nicholas, Eliyanna, Helen and Janette, so hopefully our paths cross again! Also had a really nice chat with Kevin, the AD (?) of Rapid Fire.

Had some really intense conversations throughout the evening. Theatre, politics, sex trade, HIV, MS, brain tumours. Heavy stuff.

Split a cab with Eliyanna, then popped in to the Village Pourhouse for a nightcap. Started a really organic conversation with the bartender, Kim Marie, and all of a sudden we're in a bar down the street, and she's buying me tequila shots and telling me her life story. Very cool woman. She's an actor, taking a Master's in criminal psychology, raising her twin nephews. Fuck. So impressive.

Spent most of the day hungover in bed. Puked last night. Feeling a little better now. Hope it lasts.