First the backdrop.

My foot still ached from five days ago when I tried wearing my combat boots. For some reason the left was maladjusted and I had become a temp. cripple. Pinknoise laughed and said I was a magi after LotR got out, if anything for the limping strut I had perfected. Considering the array of ways I can talk out of my arse, lightning bolts wouldn't be that outlandish.

We left for the train depot at 4ish. The ride itself was uneventful, the coma-induced boredom of reading Thoreau notwithstanding. Inside of the train terminal we gourged on chicken nuggets, pizza, and other delicate entrees. I hadn't eaten all day, so my stomach didn't particularly care. People looked at me in an odd way. Maybe it was the black slacks and trenchcoat, the fuzzy mottled grey hobo hat, my wearing sandals with thick socks, or just the whole ensemble. I was scary-looking and nervous. I fit in well.

If you've never been to NYC, trying to describe my awe at first seeing it would seem weird. It was night and as I rose from the bowels of Amtrak, all I saw were 7-10 story buildings surrounding us. Gothic architecture stacked on top of more modern facades, the dingy signs over hole-on-the-wall merchant shops shyed away from seductive neon megoliths and monstrous billboards. The landscape was a ravishing, diseased prostitute slipping out money with every magic hand pass.

Degenerate streets, shops, and isolated pockets of people of all kinds blended into the atmosphere like oil and water. The occular prophylactics were strained and stained.

We went across most of lower and upper Manhattan, from W34th St. down to Chinatown, SoHo, Times Square all the way up to 8 St. and back to Madison Square Garden. To keep things short, here's some of the highlights:

*We crossed over from North Manhattan down to ChinaTown to buy wholesale. I got a bomb-ass 60 dollar watch for 10, some gloves down to 6. I found out that the Chinese merchants all know one another and, passing by, can make change on the spot for an associate that's short.

*Times Square was a ghost town when we first got there at 8ish. The Ball did not impress me, the runty bitch. The usual police barricades were up. What grabbed my attention was how much 5-0 was representing. Along and at every subway entrance were 3-4 cops, groups of 5-6 at every major intersection, with scattered lines along streets here and there. NY cops, with some exceptions, are everything movies made them out to be: smarmy, overweight, and not affected by anything. A group of teenage girls flashing a few of them from a moving van confirmed this; not even a raised eyebrow.

*We waited 30 minutes or so for the can at McDonald's. Restrooms are few and far between in NYC. Some guy leading Pinknoise to a few likely locations gave up and "started his fire engine" right in an open phone booth. Never knew why big cities have that distinct smell until then.

*After everything, we settled down and drank at Hickey's. It was a small, badly stocked bar that had a quiet, 80's atmosphere to it. Pinknoise leveled his fourth drink as I sipped on my Long Island Iced Tea, blearly focusing on nothing as "Captain Jack" echoed off the wooden walls. It seemed to sum up the night. We joked, we insulted each other, laughed at strange things.

We did stranger things later at the train terminal. I rubbed off salt crystals onto a bald guy's head, Pinknoise adding part of his own pretzel. The guy didn't move from the stairwell below. It was a good way to pass the time, waiting for our train to come.

We're supposed to go back today. A few things are keeping me back, since this is probably my last day here, one being the friend who really wanted to see me while I was in NJ STILL hasn't emailed me (not you, Matt). I don't like getting blown off, which after a week seems to be the case.

Ah well.

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