I Weekend In New York. You?

12593 Steps

When I wake up on a Saturday morning in New York City I feel 1. Relief because it is where I fell asleep the night before and 2. Exhilaration/Panic because there is this whole world out there waiting for me mixed with "You only have two days before you go back to work and are part of the squashed commuting masses on the subway trying to read your book while keeping your armpit out of that man's face and your crotch off of that woman's leg." Okay, so maybe I don't have a FULL thought like that, but it is along those lines.

Before it all starts I make my coffee and play some music so that I feel I actually live/use this apartment for more than a doss house. This also gives me time to map out my day like Gen. MacArthur would if he had laundry, a shopping list and a letter to mail and needed to plan some spontaneity on top.

Firstly I went to the Union Square Farmer's Market which was fantastic on this crisp winter day. In the spirit of full disclosure I was playing "Spring Awakening" -angry young musical theatre- on my i-pod, but it seemed to work with the gourds and the carrots. Dunno.

This all ended when a CHASE sign called me forth. I had to open a new bank account and here was the moment. I sat down with my personal banker, Joe, and opened a checking/direct deposit account. He was very nice and I managed to deflect his advances when he tried to get me into a shiny new credit card and a savings account. "Joe, I am here to open a checking account and I want none of whatever else you are selling." All went well until from behind his back I saw 100s of Santas gathering in the square. I felt my personal banker was mine to use as I wished so I told him we had to stop business for a moment while I took a photo of my personal banker framed by Santas. Like putty in my hands he complied. I pushed the terms of his service further when I asked him to direct me to a post office and a Cingular store. I stopped short of seeing if he would go to these places for me. See Joe, at CHASE. He is the man.

The reason for Cingular was I noticed that my cell phone and companion of about 25 years broke. I drop him on occasion (hey, all's fair. He's dropped me SO many times. Ask my callers.) This time the poor lad had given up the ghost on a cellular level. It was over between us. And I couldn't call anyone to talk about it. Alone in Manhattan with no means of communication save a tongue and pen and paper. I went to see Levy at Cingular on Broadway. He laughed when he saw my pre-camera/Bluetooth phone. Laughed! I told Levy I was raw and to be gentle. He took me through my options which were: Either renew for a 2 year contract or pay $25, 000 for a new phone. Being 5% more Scottish than I am afraid of commitment, I went for the bloody contract. ("But what if I move to France in 4 months and...") Did you know these days the kids can get you into a new phone which works right away?! No 24 hours of charging and activation? I was amazed. Still I lost all my numbers so if you were on my speed dial, gentle reader, you are no longer.

From there I went to the post office to mail my passport renewal just in case I do in fact move to France and have to cancel my 2 year contract with Cingular. Truthfully I have no plans out of this country, but I must know that I can leave. I cannot handle having an expired passport. Tick. Tick. Tick. 3 things taken care of and the rest of the day is mine.

I walked home up 5th Aveune ( MIS-TAKE. 238, 498 shoppers on the sidewalks) and through Central Park.

Now it was time to hurry up and relax before Heidi and Robin came over for drinks. (Just like those 40's New York penthouse movies!) and off to a Christmas party in Brooklyn. Just like me -out all day mixing errands with life and then to a fabulous Christmas party at night. This is what I would tell my listeners if I had my own radio show. It was at a lovely apartment right across from the Brooklyn Art Museum. (Brooklyn seems to have their own everything. Who knew?) Joe was our host and ironically it was full of people who work in the mobile phone industry. Would they care to hear my fascinating story about my mobile phone? I liked that all the food was labeled (ie "Barefoot Contessa Coconut Cake" and "Taramosolata Sandwiches." There was even a tree made out of profiteroles. But the most magical thing was the WALL OF TIES. Joe's lovely mom, a forensic accountant visiting from Louisville, KY (tee hee, I never thought of the abbreviation of Kentucky) explained that the ties were her husband's. He was a lawyer with over 900 ties and when he passed away Joe inherited them. Only about 300 were on display. I thought it was a lovely tribute to Dad and I say we posed in his honor. A party can go from "And what do you do?" to "Wow!" when you have a camera, a mom who is a forensic accountant, a row of ties and fairy lights!

Patrick, Robin, Heidi tie one on.

Joe and Mom in "Hall des Cravates"

It was a fun evening and Heidi was the great "introducer" Robin and I both remarked. That girl is making things happen and I love it. We left her there, of course, and Robin and I headed back to Manhattan on the subway. We found out that this was only our second time off the island and we had only been in a cab once. How odd.

And I leave you with something you all can use: When Robin and I were in the elevator on the way out of the party a woman in patent leather boots remarked "Patent leather is going to be in for the next 3 years. Bags, shoes, coats. Patent leather." There you have it. Run with that.