October 2nd, 2005

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.

New York, So Good They Named It.

Little weekend satellite trip to Hanmattan.

We drove up Saturday afternoon, crossed town in horrendous traffic to ditch the car at Pamela's temporary digs in Queens. Delicious Greek dinner/lunch/dunch/linner. Moussaka. Man, that stuff gives you serious food-baby! I looked four months pregnant after eating that. No regrets.

We subwayed into town Saturday evening to meet up with Sue and Nigel. Sue, we met recently in Scotland, then took her Spacey-Stalking in London, and now she lives in a gorgeous and spaceous flat on the East Side. Ben didn't just love the apartment; he fucking coveted it.

So good to see her, and meet her band-of-huzz. Caring, concerned, fun, witty, sharp, and it only got sharper as the cocktails began pouring.

We w(h)ined at their flat for a couple of hours, then cabbed over to XL, a streamlined, übertrendy nightclub owned in part by the owner of the Country Club, so we were nice and set-up. (I have a pretty strict rule about being velvet-roped. Don't do it.)

Had some drinks there. Sue called us all upstairs to see the fish tank, not realizing she was dragging four people into the men's room. I told you these were quality folks!

We were also set up at the Roxy, two blocks away, so we wandered over there. We line-passed our way through their silly velvet rope, got a wristband, then inside, up some spooky stairs, got an overkill hand stamp, then were stopped again at a door-charge window. "Oh, you're on the list? You have to go talk to the guy down there at the little booth."

We all felt the whole procedure was about as invasive as clearing U.S. customs, so decided to find somewhere divier.

Bellevue Bar! (gritsnyc, why were you in Kansas?) The music was pure Hideout/Lower Decatur. The patrons were as well. We talked and drank and laughed and drank and flirted and drank and caroused and drank and then we started drinking. Pamela painted the burly black bouncer's nails red. "FAAAAA-bew-luss!" he squealed. Then she painted drunken wedding-party-goers toes red as well.

Hard to convey how wonderful it was to hang out with Pamela, and see Sue and meet Nigel. It was, in a word, ex-fucking-zactly what we needed.

We crashed at Sue and Nigel's after closing the Bellevue around 4:30am. P took the sofa.

Awoke late, parted with our gracious, gorgeous hosts, and went for breakfast.

"We want Jew food!"

2nd Ave. Deli. Best fucking pastrami I have ever had, including previous affairs with NY pastrami. At $14 a sandwich, it better be that damn good!

Beautiful fall day. Neither hot nor cold. We walked from 2nd & 10th to 6th & 14th, shoe-shopping along the way. There is nothing quite as effective at recharging one's batteries than an afternoon stroll through New York in the Autumn.

Subwayed back to Queens to pick up the car. Began driving home. Got stuck in hideous Lincoln Tunnel traffic for two hours (oddly, next to Bellevue. "Honey? Wanna jump out and get us some shots? I won't have moved far in the time it takes you.").

Back at the Reverend Bobby's with the cats and our stuff. Feeling decidedly more human after a lovely overnight trip with good food, good drinks, and excellent company.

Sue sent me this picture, taken outside XL. I have a fetish for small vehicles.