NYC

I am not looking forward to the drive from Philly to New York City, but I don't expect it to suck as soon as it does. I get on 276 right from Conshohocken, on my way to 95 right up to NYC. Not long after I am on 276 there are signs that say "To 95 Next Exit" and things seem to be going fine except when I take the exit, there is no 95. I have to take some road through a sea of traffic and lights and bullshit, with no trace of 95 around. I am heading back south towards Philly too, absolutely not where I want to go. After awhile, by pure chance, I notice a sign on an overpass pointing to 95 that is posted for people going perpendicular to the road I am on, so I bang a U-turn at the next opportunity and navigate some random neighborhoods until I finally get on 95 after an hour or so delay, and have to drive on it for fifteen minutes until I get to the place where I would have ended up had I ignored that first sign off 276. I don't know what cracked-out jokers put up these horribly-placed signs around cities, but they infuriate me. Once I am on 95 heading north, the drive is not as bad as I had anticipated. By no means is it fun, but I was thinking traffic would be backed up for no reason at random spots and people were going to be switching across every lane all the time and trucks were going to be boxing me out or in or whatever, but it was bearable. Maybe I had just steeled myself for something so horrible, it couldn't have been actually that bad. Either way, I make it through New Jersey until the Manhattan skyline rises up after a bend in the road, and I follow signs for the Lincoln Tunnel. I guess motorcycles aren't as expensive to get through the tunnel as cars which are nice. There seems to be a couple different tubes that bring you under the water, and I choose one at random which ends up shooting me onto thirty-fifth or forty-second or something a little farther uptown than I wanted to be, but I am familiar with how grid systems work from living in Salt Lake and it's not too hard to get around. In fact, it is almost fun driving through New York traffic because it is as close to lawlessness as I have yet experienced on this trip. There might as well be no lanes and people are zooming all over the place and anything goes I guess. I make my way past the Empire State Building on thirty-fourth and eventually work my way around to a friends apartment where I find some quick parking. Motorcycles are great when it comes to parking. Jenny is still at work, and so is Maggie, over in Brooklyn, so I just hang out on the street and read, then go get a snack which is like six-fifty for a juice and Clif Bar. When Jenny finishes work, I bring my stuff into her place, as I sure don't trust anything left on my bike to remain there, and in fact, I'm a bit concerned about my bike as well. We head out to a Red Sox bar to meet Maggie a little later, and then go over to Brooklyn to get dinner at a pretty slickly designed Thai place, and hang out at the bar Maggie lives above, which used to be a motorcycle shop a few years ago. That seems pretty cool to me. I meet Maggie's roommate Grace, whose brother owns the bar, and we hang out and play a little foosball until Jenny and I hop on the train back to Manhattan.
The next day I am greeted by a parking ticket on my motorcycle. Sixty-five bucks because apparently the street cleaner came that morning, and the days and hours are different on each side of the street, which is what threw me off. Oh well. I finished my bagel for breakfast and started walking around Manhattan. I ended up somewhere around Soho where I was eating lunch on a bench when I saw a woman open a cab door into a passing car. That's why you get out on the curbside. That was entertaining as the cars built up behind them and the door was bent forward and the Volvo was all scratched and dented. Then later on, I am walking down the street past a Hasidic Jew holding what looks like a mango and a giant stalk of asparagus when he grabs my shoulder and asks in a light accent if I am Jewish. When I tell him no, I am not, he doesn't seem to believe me and gets a real disappointed look on his face. I walk away feeling bad because he looked like he was really hoping I was Jewish. It's been awhile since I trimmed my beard, and my chops are getting a little bushy, but I guess I had let myself go longer than I had thought.
I had only anticipated staying in NYC for a couple days but I soon realize that my stay is going to be extended. That night I stay at Maggie's and spend the next day sitting around with Grace, watching movies and waiting for the cable guy to come, and then watching TV and going to New Jersey to Ikea. I spend the next few days in Manhattan or in Brooklyn, driving my bike here and there, leaving it here and there, avoiding parking tickets, walking around Manhattan one day when Jenny stays home from work, checking out the Staten Island Ferry and the Statue of Liberty and Ground Zero and Central Park, where I find some more bouldering, and pretty much just wandering. I get to meet up with my college friend Jacie at a bar which is great because I haven't seen her forever. I almost make it to Saturday night, when Maggie and Grace are throwing a housewarming party, but after five nights, I feel like I have been in one place long enough and on Saturday morning I pack my things and go.