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.