It's almost strange how you can bypass everything going on if you really want to, but when it intrudes you feel like you're stuck in some bizarro world. That happpened to me today going to Ranch 1 for lunch and seeing hundreds of cops just hanging out on the blocked off street near FIT. I had a slight moment of cognitive dissonance and then I was all "yeah, MSG is only 4 blocks away and today's the 'big' day." I had the same feeling going to the 23rd Street F stop after work and seeing a line of police bikes completely shielding the 23rd and 6th intersection. So much for figuring I was too far over to experience any aftershocks.
Something which is going to go into my memory banks of all time NYC moments will be Friday evening. Last work week was so draining, a campaign being set to run and having to do all this last minute shit that kept me chained to my desk until 7:30 Friday night. Fizzie was feeling the same, so we met up at the store he loves a little too obsessively: Best Buy on 23rd. We were standing outside chatting when I hear this strange whoop in the distance. I cocked my head to the side and looked around, but didn't see anything. And then, I noticed the trickle of bikes. At first riding with cars and then a street full just parading down 6th. Clogging up traffic at 23rd, forcing buses to the side -- just a crazy mass taking over the street, whooping and cheering. Fizzie, another bystanders, and I just stared on it dumbfounded for 5 minutes or so. Then we shook it off and left.
Later that night, I met the other Styleaholics crew that this new party they are spearheading weekly somewhere in the EVil. $20 for all you can drink, a private juke joint party spilling onto the street. (Anyone who wants to hear more about it, hit me up.) I sipped on rum punch cups and wandered into tattoo shop next door, assuring all I was only curiously looking. We traded stories of running into the bikers, but mostly stood around and chatted in a chill setting away from the madness everywhere else downtown was that night. Random cyclists passed and I smiled wondering if I'd seen them earlier. The night wound down and I was happy to go home feeling a lot less stressed than I'd been earlier in the night.
The next day was spent in the house, windows open and trying not to move much until night fell. I made an attempt to meet Jay-V in Chelsea, but vetoed when her review over text was less than satisfying. Again, it seemed like any other night in the city on my walk over to 10th Avenue from Penn Station -- except for the phalanx of cops again standing around. I mean, I know it's a security thing but packs of like 75+ just sorta hanging out in the middle of nowhere don't really seem to serve a purpose. Then again, I'm not a convention security organizer, so what do I know? Enjoy that overtime for nothing, folks!
I went down to meet up with Fizzie in the middle of his alarming webcam and My Space addiction. He needs an intervention, stat! I'll just smack him upside the head a few times until he gets a grip. I dragged his ass kicking and screaming out of the house and we ended up below Delancey in that place Abe was so fond of this summer. We, being us, were slightly tipsy and got frustrated waiting for like 10 mins for the bathroom downstairs. Fizzie was adamant that no one was in the one bathroom room that had remained locked since we'd been waiting. A bystander guy and I were amused as he threatened to pick the lock and shocked as shit when he did...to find a pair in a semi-compromising position. Fizzie proceeded to back out of the room and run like a bitch. Now, I for one would've been awed/disgusted/highly entertained if they'd really been going at it, but what were they doing instead? Bent over the toilet doing lines like the lameass sniffers they are. Coke is so cool, right? Well, why don't you just do it out in the open since "everyone" is doing it and all. No point in being ashamed if you're so "awesome." You should go Grace Jones line from one end of the room to the other big! Oh yeah, cause they're not and you're fucking lame. Bastard ass sniffers keeping me from peeing.
Anyhoo, the guy was nonplussed, the girl was mortified and frozen. The bystander guy and I just gawked before hysterically laughing. Embarassed, they just relocked the door. I went off to find that silly boy and he was outside telling the story to a group who just didn't get why it was funny. He says they were foreign, I think they were sniffers who were offended. To each their own.
Posted by Candicissima at August 31, 2004 12:02 AM