All my life I searched for my soulmate. Just after I got used to the idea that one probably didn’t exist, I found her. Now all I have to do these days is to sit back and enjoy life. And snap the occasional photo.
(72 St-Broadway Subway Station, Manhattan)
Now that NYC has been the safest large city in the U.S. for several years running, it’s getting harder and harder to find truly scary places within the five boroughs.
The East New York Station on the LIRR Atlantic Branch is one of those places. The station itself lies underneath the Atlantic Avenue viaduct and even in broad daylight looks like mole person territory.
But the forlorn platforms are nothing compared to the crypt-like pedestrian underpass that connects them. On a recent ride around Brooklyn, I used the underpass to get across Atlantic Avenue. It was deserted and and full of blind corners, and frankly, I was scared shitless and wondering what I was doing in that maze with a Bike Friday, an iPhone, and no weapons of any kind (except my razor wit, of course).
As it turns out, the Chinese geek with the funny bike was the scariest — and only — thing in that tunnel while I was down there. Other than my imagination. I memorialized the moment with my iPhone and got the heck out of there.
(LIRR East New York Station, Brooklyn)
The Austin evenings are colder than we expected. Fortunately, Austin’s elaborate system of geothermal taps mean you’re never far away from a heat source.
Just kidding about that geothermal tap thing.
Our trip to SXSW starts with an automated midnight phone call canceling our 6:30am flight out of LGA. A frantic phone call to a real-life AA rep later, we’re booked on a 6am to ORD and advised to show up at LaGuardia at 4:30 to get a good spot on the standby list for a flight from Chicago to Austin. The car service picks us up in Brooklyn at 4am.
Long story short, we land in Austin around 6:30pm, utterly exhausted. No opening night party for us!
(O’Hare Airport, Chicago)
Call me tribal, but I sure was hoping these things were Chinese. But alas, they were marked MADE IN USA. I’m sort of offended and relieved at same time.
(Duane Reade, Broadway & 18 St, Manhattan)
Just because repeatedly throttling your shopping cart down the narrow aisles of a Chinatown supermarket for the sake of a blog photo is clearly unsafe and stupid…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it anyway.
(Dynasty Supermarket, 68 Elizabeth St, Manhattan)
The best cup of coffee I’ve ever had was Yauco Selecto in a press pot several years ago at Gramercy Tavern. Since then, I’ve had a few hundred gallons of java, but never in a press pot (except on the rare occasion at a place like Chikalicious) and never Yauco Selecto beans. But whenever I do see a press pot I think about that cup at Gramercy, and I think to myself I have to get one of these and some of those beans. Then about two seconds later, I imagine the work and cost involved in finding the beans and getting the exactly right hardware and I promptly dismiss the whole notion. Until the next time I see a press pot.
So I love coffee, but I’m lazy too. And so far, lazy wins.
(Chikalicious Dessert Bar, 10 St & 2 Av, Manhattan)