Steppin' out

I have gotten out and explored just a little bit now. Life isn't all unpacking and work. Carson and I tried to go to the Roxy's last night last Saturday, but by the time we got there, the police had closed off the block and weren't even letting people on the street around it any more. So we went to some other club. Forget the name, but I actually liked it better than the Roxy anyway. The music was more interesting and there was a more diverse crowd. I had already been complaining a bit about the Roxy clones. The music was more interesting at this place. More varied. Still not as varied as my iPod, but I don't expect to find that anywhere until I get around to opening my own place.

But the place still wasn't what I really want in a New York bar. I'm old enough to remember Danceteria. There was something like five different floors, with different music on each floor. You walked up the stairs until you heard what you wanted to hear and then went and enjoyed it. I also liked the fact that people DRESSED to go out. At the Roxy, the clones all just wore jeans and took off whatever shirt they happened to be wearing as soon as they got there. boring.

Carson and I also went to the Townhouse. I liked that place. You can actually talk to people there without having to yell at them. The back room has a piano bar where the regular singer butchers all the great songs by belting them out without regard to little things like the music. And it also gets worse sometimes because it's kind of like a karaoke piano bar where people from the crowd can also sing. The highlight of the evening was when this guy named Vincent sang something (I forget what) and sang it really well. After he finished I tracked him down and told him that I really enjoyed his voice and he did a great job with the song. He said that he had just finished with a national tour of Pippin. A quick Google search led me to his website, http://www.vr3rd.com/index.html . Vincent Rodriguez. Nice guy, very good looking, sings really well. Hope to hear him again.

Friday we did a bit of bar-hopping in Chelsea after I got out of work. By the way, I work in Chelsea. Carson was waiting for me at the View when I finished work, and we hung out there a bit talking with the bartenders Joe and John. Both quite studly and friendly. Then we put in a brief appearance at a place called Barracuda or Hurricane or something like that. Didn't stay long. Then to a Cuban place formerly called Cuba Libre but now called something else. I forget what. Ended up talking a bit with some straight guy who was at the bar there. Friendly, not as good looking as Vincent, but then, most people aren't. Anyway, fun times. Ate some plantains there.

Right now as I'm typing this, I can hear an aria from Madame Butterfly from someone else's apartment.

Then we went to Food Bar for dinner. By the way, my Key West friends, I don't miss the restaurants there. It's really nice to have access to really good food without having to pay a whole paycheck for it. We split an order of calamari and then some chicken pasta dish. Our waiter was a bit grumpy. The other waiter who was working the area was actually friendlier to us than our own waiter was. But the food was good.

After dinner, I think the name of the place we went was Nisos. Had a great time there and just hung out there the rest of the evening. Talked a lot with Tay, who works the door and is originally from Guyana, and Susu, who was born in Kuwait and raised inPakistan. Somehow, she and I started toasting to Allah with every drink and every subject we were talking about. To Allah and alcohol. To Allah and snow. To Allah and the Mormons. To Allah and the Eastenders (The band, not the British TV show). You get the idea. We talked with other people there at the bar, but I forget who they were.

So anyway, in general, I have found New Yorkers to be very approachable and friendly once you start talking with them. They seem to act like you don't exist until you say "Hello," and then become your best friend until you move on. The key seems to be to aprroach them.

Workin' 9 to 5. What a way to make a livin'.

OK, at the risk of sounding like I'm bragging, I first have to say that I sent out one resume, went to one job interview, and landed a job. Not the best job. Not the best-paying job. But it's a job and puts money in my pocket and gives me breathing room so if I decide that I want to see what else is out there for me, I can.

The photo is me on the way out the door to the interview.

Let me repeat that. One resume. One job interview. Hired. In New York. In Manhattan. Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

Although I applied for a graphics job, the print shop had just hired the graphics person a week or so ago, so I am working customer service. Fine -- that's easier than graphics anyway. The most difficult part of the job is dealing with the huge variety of accents that I am not yet used to. I am fine with most Latin accents, and in Key West I had gotten used to the eastern European, German, and French accents. Now I'm having to figure out what people are saying with strong Middle Eastern and Asian accents.

The print shop is busy and there's rarely more than a couple of minutes that I'm sitting around doing nothing. And like I said, not the best job, but better than no job and better than looking for a job.

First subway trip addendum

Oh, I forgot to mention. There was one minor little incident in my first subway trip. As I was leaving the station, my shoebox managed to get jammed in the turnstile. those turnstiles aren't joking. Grabbed my shoebox and held it firm. Had to grab the box with both hands and yank it free. Smashed a hole in the top of the box, but fortunately the shoes are fine. But it brought to mind a childhood trauma. When I was about ten, I somehow managed to get my leg caught in a turnstile going onto or leaving a ride in Opryland in Nashville. They actually had to get someone over to take apart that turnstile to get me out, since you really can't just yank a ten-year-old boy's leg free. If that had happened today, we could have sued the park and now been owners of it instead of them shutting it down and turning the space into a shopping mall. That sucks.

And speaking of childhood traumas and stuff, I still have not seen my first subway rat yet. Those of you who know me know that I only seem to have one phobia: Rats. Every time I go in the subways I brace myself and prepare myself emotionally so I don't run screaming like a little girl and make a complete ass of myself on the subway platform in front of hundreds of people I'll never see again and won't remember even if I do see them again. Lots of poeple here look a lot alike. I swear, I saw this one guy walking towards me today three or four times. He looked like the guy who runs the deli on the Letterman show. There's a lot of guys down here who look like that.

First solo Subway trip

OK. Today I took my first solo subway trip, and fortunately it was disappointingly uneventful. I had to go and get shoes for the job interview tomorrow, and Carson had to get to work. So I hopped on the subway, went down to Astor Place and walked over to the shoe district where I procured a pair of black stylish but calm and conservative leather shoes. Then I hopped back on the subway in rush-hour traffic at about 5:15 and rode back to my neighborhood. The train did get crowded, but only after I was already on there, so it was just that there wasn't room for other people.

But I have to tell you, I was just a little dazzled today. Broadway. Park Ave. Madison Ave. Streets known throughout the civilized world, and they're my neighborhood now. I can walk to Bloomindale's. I can walk to Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum. And I haven't even started exploring yet. Spent pretty much every day here so far dealing with the stuff I brought up from Key West with me. There's a big difference between taking stuff out of a first floor apartment and carrying it up to a 6th floor apartment without an elevator. And then just organizing and cramming stuff together and making everything fit! I'm almost through with what I have here. Two boxes went right to the storage room, and probably after I get settled in a bit, I'll look into tackling that stuff and figuring out what to do with it.

Tabitha, Carson's cat, and Mikey and Salem, my gay dogs, are still trying to figure each other out. Mikey was wildly humping Salem today, by the way. Don't have a clue where he gets it from . . . Anyway, Tabitha is getting more and more curious about the boys and of course, every time they see her they run over to greet her, which puts her off a little bit. But when I got home they were all three on the furniture in the main room of the apartment: Salem and Mikey on the futon and Tabitha on the recliner.

Aundrea: Don't play with this bug

This ugly bug was in my living room one morning. My living room. Probably straightened out, he would have been maybe 4 or 5 inches long. After getting him to pose for me, I put a plastic bowl over him, slid a magazine under the bowl, and carried him to the playground of the private school across the street where the children are unable to play without screaming at the top of their voices and start playing at like 10:00 in the morning. Do you enjoy waking up to the sound of 20 children screaming? I thought maybe I could give them something to scream about.

The demise of Saturn

And speaking of Hurricane Wilma flooding the island, this is the street in front of my house after Wilma went through. At its high point, the water was over the steering wheel of my little Saturn. The canal is about a block and a half from here. On the bright side, my car somehow had a horrible infestestation of ticks. Hundreds and hundreds of ticks. Really bad. I had tried bug spray, a tick and flea bomb, tick powder, and nothing was getting rid of them. After Wilma, they were all gone. So if your car happens to get a severe infestation of ticks, just flood it was ocean water and you won't have to worry about the ticks any more.

Florida Mangrove Snake

This seems to be a Florida Mangrove Snake, so far as I could find out. Florida Mangrove Snakes can range in color from orange to green, are pretty much solid color, whatever color they are, and range from the Keys to the southern Florida Mangrove swamps. One thing that this snake taught me is that down here in Key West, people will always give you an answer, even if they don't have a clue. Before I finally found out this was likely a Florida Mangrove Snake, I was assured that it was definitely a water moccasin, a coral snake, and one well-informed guy told me it had to be an anaconda since it was in salt water. This snake was living in the canal that runs across the island from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean. I'd see it once every week or two as I crossed the canal on the way to work until Hurricane Wilma flooded the island.