I'm still here, but I'm not sure where 'here' is.

That would be figuratively. I have a fair degree of assurance in my whereabouts geographically speaking. In fact, I could probably pinpoint my location on any map of the mid-atlantic U.S. within seconds, as long as state borders were clearly demarcated.

But this is how I thought I was going to start this post:

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.

I guess you'd say, "What can make you feel this way?"
My girl.

So let's get talking about my girl, with her badass pregnant self, and how we decided to run off to the wicked, wicked city with no clearer agenda that our own amusement.

Similar projects have been attempted within the last year and are documented here and here, but note: this time I was neither alone, nor was I meeting a potentially dangerous internut stranger. No: this not potentially but assuredly dangerous internut character I've already known for years. Jo my dear belovèd pal. She took a vacation day to go to delicious, decadent Gotham with me, me, me.

We took the train. First signal that we are a little too well-matched in personality: we skip onto a train that looks suspiciously comfortable, to find that we've boarded an Amtrak train, not the humble commuter line to which our tickets entitle us. Because we can't be bothered to actually look at the train with the AMTRAK painted on the side of it in LARGE letters. We did discover our error (hey, it looks like the inside of an airplane in here! There are table trays! and footrests and shit!) before being thrown off or having an exorbitant fare extorted from us ...

So this episode illustrates how a dynamic duo can be just a little too harmonious. Jo and I share the common trait of inattention to the humdrum details of our physical environment when there's anything entertaining in the vicinity. Such as each other.

That was kinda the theme of the day. Hitting the street outside Penn Station, we got almost a block before realizing that each of us thought the other was taking us somewhere. Later: after scrutiny of the subway map that combined brow-furrowing and a haphazard attitude, we felt fuzzily-logical about what stop we should probably take on likely this train that would go more or less to Soho ... and missed the stop due to the compelling nature of our conversation. This time I know it wasn't hemorrhoids because I would've remembered that. I can't guarantee that lube was not at least marginally germane to the topic, however.

For some reason I felt reasonably confident that I could walk us back to where we'd wanted to go, and I did—but not without first guiding us in a series of tight concentric circles skirting Tribeca. Then, upon finding a likely streetname and cautiously consulting a police officer, we walked about twenty-five blocks to end up, ravenous, at Balthazar (again) where I got the lamb sandwich (again) but this time: rosé, baby--a Provençal rosé that was much better with the roast lamb than the Chablis of last May. Boring pregnant Jo drank orange juice. I assured her that FAS babies are loads of fun, but she ignored me. The excellent haute McD's french fries came with both our sandwiches. We ate at the crowded bar and the bartender flirted shamelessly with us. Choquées we were!

I had opportunity to flex my urban muscles more than once in that Hobbesian milieu that is a NYC popular restaurant. The bar was filling up with people who didn't want to wait thirty minutes for a table when I first approached it, but I spotted two empty barstools and swooped in like the condor that I am. One of them had a place setting waiting on the bar above, but the other was wedged uncomfortably close to a solitary diner at the end of the bar who eyed me, elbows akimbo, leaking territorial pheremones. As Jo approached, I gave him a piercing direct look and a steely smile, canines flashing. "Would you mind moving down a bit? We'll need room for both seats here." Later, one of the crowd around the bar was oozing into Jo's space, making lots of creepy contact and ignoring her attempts to squirm him off. So I just leaned back onto the fellow luxuriously, like a naugahyde banquette, and he evaporated.

I probably shouldn't enjoy such moments. I know it's aggressive. But it does seem as though so much of just being able to enjoy being in Manhattan is in having some sense of assurance with taking up one's alotted bit of space.

As noted, Jo and I are admirably well-suited for these outings, which is why I want to repeat them once a week until she moves away. We are compatible in not having tight agendas; in having a much-needed tolerance for getting a little waylaid or disoriented; in an ability to be remain hypnotized for well night unto an hour in stores like this (where we were hypnotized for well nigh unto an hour, and where Jo discovered much to her surprise that I had harbored a secret longing to have highlights of this color in my hair in my crisp and tender days. "Awww, do it now! do it now!" "Baby, when you are just longing to look 25 again, you're not trying to draw 'extry' attention to yourself in just that way.")

And then I got us a bit lost again finding the subway. But then we caught a train home just in time anyway. And then we were tired, in a good way. The end THE BEGINNING?? bwahahahhaaa ...

Comments

[anne]

i got on a wrong train once with a friend of mine, and we were deeeeeep in conversation, such that we did not notice that we were going through the carpathian mountains (rather than along them), and none of the people around us (several of whom realized we were on the wrong train) wanted to interrupt us to point out the error.
it's probably one of my top 10 happy travel stories. going wrong and getting lost with a person you really enjoy is a zillion times more fun than following the map and getting where you were going with someone you only kind of like.

[Jo]

You shame me! I shall have to post a conflicting account at once. That bartender was CLEARLY flirting with YOU.

[Anne]

I LUV Ricky's!! You have impeccable taste! Have packed my Votivo room spray from said mecca to get me thru the next few days (see details at "Vacation's All I Ever Wanted..."

Anne

[TK]

Awesome! I hope this is the first of a number of installments of Jilbur & Jo's Excellent NY Adventures. We want all the details of your cab hailing, cocktail sipping, sidewalk pedestrian turf wars, consumption of uber-cool urban goods, and flirting with locals.

[jenB]

this sounds like so much fun! you should hire yourselves out for some sort of fun companions tour....