I'm in the process of moving to the "Big Apple" and I figured I'd start a blog about it. It seems like a good way to keep in touch with friends, and time spent "blogging" is time not spent spending money and killing brain cells.
So I had originally planned to go to Central Park a couple times this weekend to jog and explore, but instead I got lazy and mostly drank the weekend away... which was tons of fun, but apparently I missed topless day at Central Park! (NSFW)
I really did have plans to spend most of the weekend exploring the park and getting familiar with it... oh well. Win some, lose some I guess. It would have been the perfect excuse to be gross and jog topless too. Maybe it's best that I didn't end up at topless day... as things like that have ended poorly in the past.
As has become normal when I've been lazy and not posting too often, I'll do bullets...
* Friday night I went barhopping around Columbia, which is in the Upper West Side (just not nearly as "way upper" as where I am. It was interesting, and I swear the couple next to me at the first bar was a professor and a student. It was an old WASPy looking dude and a 19-year-old looking Asian girl. That was totally a "Law and Order: SVU" episode waiting to happen.
* Saturday was the Upper East Side with MM. We went to this piano bar where we ran into an uber-celebrity! He's so huge... I didn't even know who he was. That's a whole new strata of celebritude. It was Doug Wilson! Yeah, THE Doug Wilson.
I would have had no idea who he was, except another guy at the bar excitedly asked me "Is that Doug Wilson from 'Trading Spaces' over there!"
I think I said something to the effect of "I have no idea, but I bet he knows, let me ask..."
He was a friendly guy, I think he was a regular there.
* Another bar we went to was kind of interesting... as soon as I walked in the guy who had been playing the bongo drum grabbed me and sat me down at the bongo and said "play." Play I did, just some sort of random beat that hopefully had something to do with the beat (though most likely not... the night was well underway at that point).
I must have been really loud though, because my fingers are like bruised... weird. They also had a hula-hoop competition... I did not win. I know, you're shocked.
I chatted up the owners for a bit, asking them where they recommend in Chinatown... turns out they were from Taiwan and loathe Chinatown - oops. Again, win some, lose some, right?
* Then we went to a new bar and watched the men's basketball gold medal match... while closer than it should have been, we still dominated. The only takeaway from the game is that Pao Gasol is a complete beeyatch. Word.
* I really should start carrying my camera around... but I've said that before. This weekend I heard "Beat It" blaring at the subway station and a big crowd had gathered, so I check it out and sure enough there's midget dressed up in full MJ garb, with the white glove and everything moonwalking around the station.
It was basically the same as this clip, except a midget in that outfit, and fewer people, and just a boombox, and no spotlights or special effects, and it probably smelled worse, and... well, the only things that were the same were the outfit and the creepy factor.
* The other strange sight was a man walking near Chinatown around lunchtime today wearing a sandwich sign covered in too many words to possibly make any sense, like "Bloomberg," "school," "Child-torture" and about thirty other random words. He kept hitting a cowbell and chanting "Arrest Bloomberg. Arrest Bloomberg." That's the mayor, Michael Bloomberg in case you're wondering. I bet the weirdo would be none too pleased if Bloomie successfully beat the city's term limits and got re-elected.
I got my lunch from the "Bloody Angle" in Chinatown today.
It is featured in one of the chapters in Gangs of New York, which I finished on the subway ride home today. It was actually a really enjoyable read and was filled with neat tidbits on the history of city.
As for the Bloody Angle, it dates back to when rival Chinatown gangsters were killing each other regularly around the turn of the century give or take.
This is totally how I imagine things were in the dirty (dirtier than now?) and dangerous streets of Chinatown back in the day. (The clip really isn't too bad, but it's probably not too work friendly I guess...)
Anywho... back to the Bloody Angle, here's how the author describes it (and yes, he is prone to exaggeration and yes it was written in 1928):
The police believe, and can prove so far as such proof is possible, that more men have been murdered at the Bloody Angle than at any other place of like area in the world. It was, and is, an ideal place for ambush; the turn is very abrupt, and not even a slant-eyed Chinaman can see around the corner.
Nowadays it's just known as Doyers Street. A little less flashy, but I guess it works.
One of the other things that also made it a perfect place for jumping people was that there is an underground passage from Doyers to Chatham Square where gangsters would escape.
It's still there, just not marked in English. You go down a couple of flights of stairs and the passage is still there, its just lined with doctors and acupuncture offices and such. Unlike the streets, which are filled with signs in Chinese and English, in the passage there was very little English and most offices had absolutely no English signage. I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb as the only white dude down there. It was kind of neat.
Doyers Street, surprisingly wasn't too crowded. I guess because it was mostly hair salons and more things for locals, not too many restaurants or doodad stands. The lady I ordered from at the restaurant I did eat at didn't speak much English at all. After a painful few minutes of trying to order, she pulled out a little "touching memories" looking photo album and opened it up. It was filled with pictures of food and she had me just point to something. I'm assuming that means I wasn't the first to have so muh trouble there.
I guess a picture really is worth a thousand words, especially when nobody understands any words being said. That being said, I still don't think I actually got what I tried to order... but at least what I got was really good.
The story of the Bloody Angle is just one of the many fascinating things I learned about the city from that book.
The book was also fun because it was filled with random things like this about how "gentlemanly" one of the nastiest gang leaders in the history of the East Side around 1900 - Monk Eastman. He talks about how brutal he was and how often he would beat men up, but...
But Monk was always a gentleman; he was proud of the fact that he had never struck a woman with his club, no matter how much she annoyed him. When it became necessary to discipline a lady for a lapse in manners, he simply blackened her eye with his fist.
"I only give her a little poke," he exclaimed. "Just enough to put a shanty on her glimmer. But I always takes off me knucks first."
At least he took his brass knuckles off, how chivalrous.
Now that I've finished that book, I swung by the library on the way home and got Ladies and Gentlemen, the Bronx is Burning. If you haven't heard of it or heard the phrase, it's in reference to New York City's "issues" in 1977. Hopefully it will be interesting... though unfortunately I already know it includes a lot about the va-jankees and them winning the World Series that summer... so well see.
New York City in 1977 also had the Son of Sam, riots, a blackout and a crazy mayoral races so hopefully it'll be a good read.
Well, in honor of this post being focused on Chinatown, here's something pretty random...
This was on the Cake Wrecks blog, which has some of the goofiest cake failures around. My brother and his wife introduced me to it, and I got a decent number of good laughs from it. That particular cake was apparently originally from a blog called Basic Instructions.
So some friends were in town this weekend and we relaxed, had a few drinks, behaved ourselves and philosophized about the current state of the civilized world and whatnot.
Well, sort of.
Another way of looking at it might be that we drank all weekend and went all over town from bar to bar causing varying degrees of trouble. We really did go all over the place, so I'll just mention some of the more random things (that I can remember)...
* So bar hopping was a little interesting when we were near NYU... because they tend to card more. Normally presenting ID isn't an issue, but when I recently applied for my New York state driver's license they made me surrender my old license... leaving me without a picture ID.
What I did have, as far as something government-issued that had my birthday on it, was my draft card.
In case you were wondering, about half of the bars on Bleecker Street near NYU checking ID at the entrance let me in using my draft card (draft cards don't have pictures on them in case you didn't know). The other half hate America.
It definitely made for some interesting conversations with the bouncers, most of whom had not registered with the Selective Service System (despite the fact that the law says, with a few exceptions, all males 18-25 must register). Then again, we were right by NYU, so I shouldn't be terribly surprised I guess.
Overall though, it didn't come up too much, since there wasn't too much carding throughout the weekend.
* We went to one bar that had a family of mice living behind the bar... but don't worry, I'm pretty sure they were friendly mice. The bartenders were friendly too, even though I could tell they were a little miffed when they came back from the bathroom to find me heading behind the bar trying to catch the mice. I figure they would make good pets, right?
They were also none too pleased (but still nice) when I pretended to try to get a drink from the Corona lava lamp... come to think of it, they had the patience of saints. Hmmm, if any of us remembers the name of the place, we'll have to go back.
* We went to the home of the best General Tso's chicken in Chinatown for lunch Saturday. Next time I go there, I'll have to get a side order of something we noticed that kind of stuck out on the menu... "duck's blood with yellow chives."
Part of me says it will probably be inedible, like the jellyfish we got there last time, but the other part of me is just fascinated, so we'll see what happens with that...
Sidenote - our fortune cookies were served to us on a bed of sliced oranges... which I had never seen before, there or anywhere else.
* I was exposed for the first time to Concrete TV, which is glorious. Oversimplified, it is this public access show in New York where all kinds of totally random scenes are mashed together into these crazy montages and set to music.
The clips are all over the place, they range from scenes from Barney to people getting run over by cars to porn scenes to newscast snippets to absolutely anything you can imagine under the sun. Hell, I think they had a snippet from JEM and the Holograms.
This is just one random sample... DO NOT WATCH THIS AT THE OFFICE! (along with the random stuff, there's naked folks interspersed...)
An old roommate from USF who lives in the Upper East Side had the DVDs of the show. it was great. He even had one episode that was entirely comprised of essentially just people getting hit by cars and set to a cover of the Jimi Hendrix classic "Crosstown Traffic" and Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping" (I get knocked down..., that one).
For some reason, (though admittedly we weren't even close to sober at that point) I couldn't get enough of clips of people being hit by cars. I couldn't stop laughing and was in tears watching it... the other guys might have been a little worried at how much I was laughing at those clips.
I was kind of like when Homer had to watch the Troy McClure video of car crashes at traffic school ("Here's an appealing fellow... in fact, they're a peeling him off the sidewalk.") Everybody else is mortified and Homer is cracking up ... "It's funny cuz I don't know him." Truer words were never spoken.
* I'd be sad if I forgot to mention that Lisa and I resumed our epic Blades of Steel rivalry. My Toronto Maple Leafs, of course, dominated his feeble Montreal Canadiens.
* We did go to the nipple-burger bar near where I work, but nothing crazy happened. The bartender from before wasn't there then. We just had some uber-cheap PBR's and hung out, it was relatively early and thus quite.
* We also had some beers at the microbrewery under the Empire State Building... that was kind of cool. FYI -they have really good cheese fries. We also learned there's a KFC right near the Empire State Building too, which is comforting to know.
* We went to the site of the old CBGB's punk club, which is now an ultra-trendy designer clothes boutique catering to the (with those prices, apparently well-to-do) hipster crowd. The situation is really kind of sad.
Along with the stunningly overpriced shirts, they sold mint condition used records selling for around a $100 a piece. Some looked pretty familiar, since I have copies at my apartment (though admittedly many are not in good enough condition to be considered sold as "collectibles" like theirs). They also sell antique (read: used, and old as crap) stereo receivers, like the 1975 hand-me-down receiver I use. They ranged from $500 to $1,000. The same ones probably sell at Goodwill for $10... but the world is filled with very, very stupid people with too much money... so why not try to get some of it, right? I'm going to try to sell the store my receiver and maybe some records too and see what happens with that.
* I really need to remember to bring my camera everywhere with me. Today's subway ride home was interesting, to say the least. Toward the end of the ride, a high school drumline and group of dancerettes got on the train... which isn't too strange... unless they're all dressed in hospital-themed costumes. The musicians were all wearing scrubs, and the dancers were all wearing matching naughty-nurse outfits (maybe it was good I didn't bring my camera then... since they were all teens...). The teacher/band director was wearing a white lab coat and stethoscope.
One stop away from them getting off, they just randomly decided to all start drumming and salsa dancing on the train... it was incredibly strange - and loud.
There was also a homeless guy on my train for a while begging for money... which is also not too unusual... but he decided to keep things interesting. He basically approached guys individually and would half whisper "Hey, you look like you've got a big dick," and then he would present his change cup. (I assume it was an attempt to flatter some money out of riders. I know I was flattered... but not flattered enough.
I assume either he had some serious issues in the head or that he was totally faking it... sad either way I suppose.
Besides, I had already exhausted my money-for-strangers-on-the-train budget for the day by giving a dollar to an a cappella group that did a really fun version of "Stand by Me" on the 6 train earlier.
The 6 train is on the East side... so the East side apparently gets performances of golden oldies while my train on the West side gets homeless people commenting on my girth... I guess that's the difference between the East and West sides.
Well, I guess that's all I can think of off the top of my head... it's bedtime anyway... we didn't go to bed terribly early these past couple of nights to say the least.
So, I signed the lease for my apartment in Washington Heights today... and I can move in tomorrow, so that's pretty awesome.
All I had to do was bring about $3,000 worth of bank certified checks for various things (first month's rent, security deposit, etc...) The only problem is my bank (along with my vast fortune of course) is in Florida.
Hmmm...
So I also have a checking account with Bank of America, which is almost as common as Starbucks in some parts of New York, so I go there and start trying to figure how to get $3,000 in my hands in New York City asap... without catching gonnhasyphyherpeles from some random stranger in Chinatown.
I talk on the phone with my bank in Florida and they can't help me get my money in any way shape or form. No surprise, they've been as useless as my appendix lately.
So instead they tell me to take a cash advance on my debit card, and assure me not to worry because there's no limit. Sounds too good to be true right? Well it of course was.
So I go to the counter at the BofA and ask for a cash of advance for just over $3,000... and it comes back denied... which is pretty damn embarrassing to say the least. Teller #1 then tells me I need to call my bank in Florida again to figure out what's wrong.
I do, the different person says I do indeed have a limit, and it happens to be exactly $3,000. So I go back to the counter, and get teller #2. I try to be subtle and not too loud in asking for $3,000 cash money, but she's a little hard of hearing and has to doublecheck the amount... "$3,000 you say, right?" she nearly yells from the safety of being behind her bullet-proof glass. I'm sure a a couple people in the not so empty place glanced our direction.
Awesome.
So she gives me this wad of cash that barely fits in my wallet and makes my wallet barely fit in my back pocket and I start wandering the streets of New York City.
I really do feel relatively safe in NYC in general. I figure if something is going to happen to me, it is going to happen to me anyway no matter where I am... but wandering around the city with thousands of dollars in cash bulging out of my ass left me a little uneasy as I walked to the subway to head toward the apartment complex.
So I go into a different bank and ask if I could use the cash to get bank certified checks, and they tell me only a bank I have an account with can do that. I'm a writer, not a banker, I know jack about these simple banking matters.
Then a lightbulb goes on in my head and I go back to the BofA. I have an account there.
I get teller #3 (conveniently situated right between tellers 1 and 2) and ask if I can now deposit my fresh just out of the bank 3 g's cash money. If she hadn't seen me just cash advance the money from the girl next to her, she probably would have assumed I was a drug dealer. Luckily, she just thought I was a confused moron instead.
So then she takes the cash back, puts it in my account and then takes it right back out to make some certified checks for the apartment folk.
So long story short, I went to a bank and magically created $3,000, deposited it into my checking account with the same bank and then produced certified checks from the same bank.
No wonder so many people are in so much financial trouble. Once I figured out what I was doing, that was just way too easy.
Anywho...
So my wrist has been hurting. I started thinking, and I realized the only dairy I've had since I got here was the cheese on pizza and cheeseburgers... so I'm convinced it's from a lack of calcium. Maybe I'll have to start drinking white russians once I get over this quasi-cold. Every little bit counts right?
Also, I'm still feeling a bit under the weather in general. So to fight that, I've been downing virgin screwdrivers like there's no tomorrow at work.
Gratuitous Chinatown mention...
Also... I went to Chinatown for lunch again today on the way to signing my lease...
Eating in Chinatown is an interesting thing. There are so many restaurants and no way to really pick... so usually something has to catch your attention. There is usually some sort of sign that points to the "right" place to eat.
Today, the decision was pretty much made for me. As I was walking down Canal Street, I saw a cook hop out of the back of a truck with a whole dead hog heaved over his shoulder and I totally followed him to his restaurant. I could still see a big blood stain on the pigs not-so-smiling face as it bounced up and down on the guy's shoulder.
So tomorrow should be pretty busy with the whole sort of moving in thing, so it's time to hit the hay...
Despite the relatively negative post title, this is actually about a success! Many of you may have heard me rant and rave about a seemingly mythical restaurant with perhaps the greatest General Tso's Chicken this world has ever known.
Some of you may have even wandered the streets of Chinatown dodging fireworks and throngs of asians and tourists alike during Chinese New Year's celebrations searching for the restaurant for hours with no luck. You know who you are.
It all started in the summer of 2005 with a trip to New Jersey to visit a friend at Princeton (we'll call him "Princeton," makes sense, right?) and some family spread around the "Garden State" (refer to last post where it refers to the potentially misleading titles of "monster island" and "Hell's Kitchen").
My friend and I decided to take the train into Manhattan and by chance came upon a restaurant that happened to have some of the most amazing General Tso's Chicken I'd ever had. Over time I forgot the name and location of the place, but I never forgot the chicken. Never.
I was back in Manhattan recently (to secure the apartment that ended up falling through) and I was with Princeton again. We set out to find the place, and were not going to accept failure as an option.
We were like police dogs hunting for a body in the woods, and after probably a couple of hours, we could sense we were closing in on the right part of Chinatown. Then... success! There it was, like it had been waiting for us there for years.
We had found the place and had our victory General Tso's! and believe me, it was good...
(Side note... the jelly fish was not good... at all. Yes, I realize that is one of those things most people can figure out without having to order it. Even the waiter told us we were dumb.)
The restaurant is called O.K. 218 Restaurant (real easy name to remember years down the road, right?) and it is near the corner of Elizabeth Street and Grand Street in Chinatown. If you visit me and you like General Tso's, then you know where one stop will be while you're in town.
After all that, it is going to be funny if I find some better General Tso's once I move to the city. I'll be working right near Chinatown and I'll probably end up eating in Chinatown often, so I'll keep you all up to date.
Apartment update:
The Hell's Kitchen apartment looks like it was indeed a scam. Also, for those wondering that's Hell's Kitchen the neighborhood and not the reality show about the crazy chefs, since some people were a bit confused today at lunch.
I'm still very much considering the Staten Island apartment... I just need to gauge how the ferries are.
I do have a solid lead on a possible two-bedroom apartment in Washington Heights, which could be interesting. That's the way-way-way Upper West Side for those wondering. It's still on the island of Manhattan, but is actually like west of the Bronx. I could use the money I'd save to buy some ticket packages for the new Yankee Stadium (which I'd live relatively near) and consistently root for the away teams. Sounds like a way not to get shot, right?
There are also several other random potentials to consider. Apartment hunting is so very exciting.
In honor of the topic of this post, here's a related Overheard in New York post:
"Asian guy #1: Yeah, but I've only been to Chinatown like...once or twice. Asian guy #2: Still, it's like Muslims. You only have to go to Mecca once, but you still went."
P.S. I wonder how much the apartments with the red trim windows above O.K. 218 go for?
Originally I was practicing for the possibility that I might be asked to "blog" at work, then I was enjoying writing about adventures in a new city, and now I pretty much just randomly post Onion-style 'news' stories that pop into my head and about various KFC-related news and happenings.
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