My dad and I love movies, but the only one playing at this festival that we hadn't seen already was "Phantom of the Rue Morgue," based on a Poe story. I was all excited at the thought of going into the city, as I always am, but especially hitting up the Village, an old stomping ground of mine from my younger years.
The trip was bound to be two things today: smelly and wet.
First of all, on the train out of New Haven (and no, I promise this isn't another angry commuter rant) someone kept on ripping out silent but deadly farts. I thought I would die. Or hurl. Maybe both. But it went on and on almost the entire time.
When we got to the city we decided to walk a few blocks to another favorite place, Nintendo World in Rockefeller Center. On our way there, not only did we see/hear a woman belting out "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" at the top of her lungs, but we also found a cute little street fair with a ton of delicious eats. Alas...my dad wanted to eat at Connelly's, an Irish pub. Maybe he has a fear of street food, or wanted to sit down...who knows. Connelly's is good, but sometimes you just want to eat a gyro from a street vendor, no?
After I indulged in an Irish breakfast for lunch, we hit Nintendo World, where I immediately freaked out because Mario, the man in red himself, was greeting people at the door. I have never seen the characters at the store, so I got all giddy:
Bad picture, of course, but Dad was trying to rush me. Personally, I think he was miffed that Yoshi wasn't there greeting people. He managed to make me look blurry and fat (which I'm not, honest).
Anyway, after I drooled over most of the merchandise and bought a sweet Donkey Kong shirt, we headed to the subway to the Village. Well. Let me tell you something. I take the subway all the time, so I know what to expect. This particular car was very clean, but smelled like shit. Period. There is simply no dancing around the fact that someone had a load in their pants, or stepped in something. I looked around, and didn't see any of the usual suspects. Everyone looked fairly clean, etc. But it made me want to gag. It was just awful.
After we escaped to West 4th Street, we climbed the steps to see...a downpour. And it wasn't the downpour that annoyed me as much as all the people standing in the way of the exit. They didn't want to get wet, I guess. My dad and I looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and proceeded to barrel through everyone blocking our path. You see, you have to barrel sometimes in NYC. Sure, it might seem mean, but I simply don't have the time to be polite. One notorious spot for barreling is Times Square. Just stick those elbows out and push those tourists staring up at the buildings out of your way. Works like a charm.
So we pretty much ran for it, basically wading our way the few blocks to the theater. Nothing sucks like NYC in August, when it's raining. It's muggy, it smells...you get drenched...you get the idea? There was no time to look around Houston Street and go window shopping. If only we had a canoe we could have waded down Houston, that's how bad it was.
The theater was pretty small. They were only playing two movies: one was ours, the other some documentary about the artist Basquiat. But it was crowded. My dad and I grabbed seats, looking like drowned rats (but so did everyone else). The movie was about to start, when some guy sat next to my dad...and smelled like shit. Again. Just pure doodie. What amazed us most of all was that he apparently was with six other people sitting in front of us, and they didn't seem alarmed by his odor! Can you imagine hanging out with a friend who is an insult to your nostrils??? And again, the guy was clean cut and all, but phew! Thank goodness the movie was only about an hour and forty minutes. Had we been seeing something like Gone with the Wind I would have walked out before the burning of Atlanta.
We still weren't dried off by the end of the movie, and dad wanted to head back. We would up getting an earlier train than expected, so I had to put off a trip to the nearby Crumbs. Grand Central now has a Magnolia bakery, but I'm not as much of a fan. I did, however, grab the hot new issue of Rolling Stone with the True Blood hotties on the cover. ;) (and when did Rolling Stone get so skimpy? I remember when it was a much thicker mag, with more meat to it).
We were finally dried off, and as we walked to our train we realized something...no air conditioning in any of the cars. I thought I might cry right then and there. The conductor just said, "Oh yeah, it's probably broken in all the cars." I wanted to hit him. We took our seats and after about 20 minutes it did kick in, so it wasn't too uncomfortable.
I still had a great day though. Rain, mugginess and poopie smell be damned...there is nothing like a trip into NYC. =)
Well, you know me. So I agree with your last comment. It does sound like you had some bad moments but still seems like a good day. And, all magazines have gone skimpy! The Internet is taking over!
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