Okay, Sunday morning. Last day in NY.
I got up at 8:45 and walked to W. 23rd St, or wherever the subway station is that would take me to the museum. Got myself an Egg McMuffin on the way. You know how sometimes you run into someone with that kind of breath that just about knocks you over? Yeah, one of the customers was like that. It was scary. He left a wake as he went along.
After eating, on got on the train up to W. 81st, and it dumped me off right into the museum itself. Cool!
Actually, cool is not the right word. Remember last year, when I was talking about how the Metropolitan Museum of Art was really nice, except they had it heated to about 600 degrees? It was the same here. I suppose it might just be the body heat of all the people, because that really does add up, but in that case it would be nice if there was some ventilation.
Anyway, I saw a neat planetarium show narrated by Whoopi Goldberg. At first I was like, "What's with raspy Brooklyn-sounding woman?" Was Avery Brooks busy that day, or what? But after a while she said who she was, and I was like, "Ohhhhh!! Okay." I guess it's because she played Guinan. Or however you spell it. The show was fun, and felt like a carnival ride without those pesky dry heaves. I learned that the sun actually is not an average-mass star, but above average. I didn't know that.
Then I went around and saw everything as fast as I could, partly because I was limited on time, but mostly because it was too hot to stand around and read anything. Really, someone needs to be flogged for allowing those museums to get up to flesh-melting temperatures like that. It's one of the many things that I completely fail to understand about the world.
Then I took the subway to 42nd and walked the rest of the way, stopping at a brewery/restaurant for an oatmeal stout and a piece of cheesecake. Yum! There was a young couple sitting next to me, and the woman told her fella to look in his coat pocket. He reached in and found a condom. He was like, "Shhhh, what?! That's the last thing I need!! What if she looks in my pocket! I can't have her finding stuff like this! What are you trying to do?!" The girl looked very amused. Ah, to be young and idiotic!
Really, I can see the benefits to actually having someone with you when you go on vacation, so you don't sit in restaurants either pretending to be fascinated by your cell phone or listening to the private conversations of people around you, but what can you do?
I got back to my hotel and had a little scare. I had already checked out, and had them hold onto my bag, but they couldn't find it at first. Eventually they found it though, and the Carmel guy came to pick me up a few minutes early. I got to JFK with a couple of hours to spare, but I had wanted to allow for possible stop and go traffic. I wandered around a bit; JFK is like a big shopping mall. After a while I decided to grab lunch at a Mexican place. I had a carne asada burrito and a really amazing blood orange margarita, which I made last for as long as I could.
The flight was uneventful, really. Somehow the way back manages to be about two hours longer than the way there, but it was okay. I got out of the airport, got my suitcase, and got a ride back with this insane Russian taxi driver, who drove at about 100 mph. I was trying to text Alex, "I'm on Doolittle"...but by the time I got to the "D", we were blasting down Island Dr. I blinked and missed our street completely, so we ended up at the end of the street. I saw the fare, and worked out that it would be $20 if I gave him a tip, but then he told me that there's a $7 airport fee, and a $4 after 10 pm fee. So basically, with the cash I had, I wasn't able to bother with the tip, except maybe about a dime. His tip should have been, "If you want to get there quickly, go down Ron Cowan Drive instead of Doolittle, you big freak." He was friendly enough though, and somehow managed to get me home in one piece.
So there you go. That was my trip. Wow. It took me nearly as long to write about it as the duration of the trip itself. Heh heh!!
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