The next day when we woke up, I had forgotten all about the idea of leaving, and when I remembered I thought Nick was joking, but it turned out he went to the store and bought supplies for the trip (smokes, beer and cereal). Well, I couldn't say no to a free trip to NYC so we picked up Shack, (who thought Nick was joking about the trip too) and we were off.
We left about 10 in the morning and got to Newark Airport at about 5 in the afternoon. None of us knew you could take a bus into the city for like, a $1.50 a peiece, so Nick ended up paying about $15 each just so we could get into Manhatten on some kind of airport coach. If we couldn't tell already, this was pretty poor planning on our part.
We got off at Penn Station, and 2 seconds after we got there, Shack stepped in vomit.
We wandered around for a few hours before we decided we needed a place to crash. We thought we'd find a hostile or a flophouse, but had no idea where one was at. We finally found a hostile, but they wanted $80 apiece for one night. I told Nick it'd be cheaper to sleep on the streets, but we deceided on the Chelsea Hotel instead (immortalized as the hotel where Sid Vicious killed his girlfriend, Nancy Spungen then OD'd and died). It was pretty cheap (about $115), and after we were checked in me and Shack went to go get some beer to prepare for the next day. I for one needed a drink, as I'm sure they did as well.
The next day we left the Chelsea at about noon. It was time to go walk around with the uptown pricks of the city. I asked a suit for a ciggerette and he told me to go back to fuckin' Brooklyn. I guess even after a day there we were starting to fit in. For example, when we walked past a tourist bus,Shack yelled, " Hey hayseeds, smile!" and took a picture of the tourists, while some guy with a thick Jewish accent smiled at us, pointed at the bus and said, "fucking tourists." Another week here and we'd all be talking like Italians.
Anyways, we went down to Chinatown a little later. I swear to God I've never seen so many beautiful Oriental women in one place in all my life. Come to think of it, I've never seen so many good looking women in general in one place in all my life. Too bad none of them would talk to me. Oh well.
So we made our way over to the Lower East Side. We met some guy from Denver with his forehead pierced. People get too carried away with that shit. We stopped at CB's and they wanted $5 for a fucking piss yellow watery domestic. This was when we decided the only way we where gonna get drunk was to buy a bottle and sit in the park.
Truth be told, everything in Manhatten is outragously expensive, execpt for the hard liquor. It was basically the same in New York as it is in Cleveland. Nick bought a bottle of Jameson and we made our way to Union Square. We sat in the park and listened to some crazy drummers and drank our whiskey. The whiskey was gone in about 20 minutes, so me and Shack went to go buy another bottle (with money from Nick of course). It was getting late and we were worried that we might not make it to the store in time because it was getting late. We asked a couple locals what time they stop selling alcohol and every person we asked didn't know they stopped selling booze. I guess the city that never sleeps never stops drinking either.
The store was out of Jameson, so we bought 2 bottles of 151 rum, poured it in a two liter with some pop, and made our way to Greenwitch Village to find this jazz club called Small's. Turns out the place closed down long before we arived in the city, so we went back to Union Square to settle in for the night. Nick wanted to go back to Chinatown, but Shack wouldn't have any of it. Our lost captain seemed on edge the whole trip, which was evident in the fact that he smoked about a half of a carton of ciggerettes in like, two days. Come to think of it, every picture of Shack from the trip he had a smoke in his mouth.
Jesus, I'm still writing this shit. I must be really bored.
Anyway, we got back to Union Square and drank our booze. Nick passed out on the sidewalk and me and Shack stayed up drinking. After a time, we met this old street person with a guitar. He played us some songs, and I played a song or two.
Right around 7 in the morning, we went to DickMonald's (or McDonalds, whatever yanks yer crank), and I swear to god it was the gayest fast food resturant I've ever been in. The walls were all purple with this faggoty neon light sceme going on. I wanted to fuckin puke in my shitburger.
So thats about it. We left town after we ate. I'm still not sure the point of my writing this pointless fucking story, but I'm not sure of a lot of things I do.