Our Anniversary Trip-Day 1, Pt. 2 (An Evening Out)

To recap:

We%26#39;re Scott and Jennifer from Baton Rouge spending our 26th wedding anniversary in the Big Apple. We flew in Wednesday evening and spent Thursday taking a bus tour of the city.

Thursday evening

January 4, 2007

I read my report about the bus tour and realize I was probably a little harsh on New York Party Shuttle Tours. The reality is that I%26#39;m just not an organized tour person. We usually wing it when we travel but I was frightened by the prospect of freezing weather into booking a bus tour. I%26#39;m sure our guide got as frustrated with our frequent disappearing acts as I did with the structured nature of the tour. I hope it was some consolation that Scott gave him a nice tip when we finally ditched the bus at the Empire State Building.

Back on the mean streets of New York we headed over to the nearest subway stop, by far the largest one we had yet dealt with. It offered a veritable alphabet soup of choices for our traveling convenience. After much discussion we opt for the V train which delivered us to 5th and 53rd, just over 1/2 block from our hotel. Aren%26#39;t you proud? (Note for the novice: If you and your traveling partner should choose to indulge in a long game of ';Which Way Now?'; do not do so in front of the subway gates where you swipe your card. Especially don%26#39;t do this during rush hour on a Thursday. For some reason it annoys the natives.)

We%26#39;re still flushed with victory when we arrive back at room 30something at the Hilton. Housekeeping%26#39;s been and everything looks great until I notice the little orange light blinking on the phone. You%26#39;d have to have left your college-aged kids home alone and in charge of a confused and difficult old man to understand the panic that that little light can induce. Anything could have happened. Someone could be hurt. There could have been a fire. PaPa could have hopped a bus to Oklahoma City.

Fortunately it%26#39;s not any of those things. It%26#39;s the front desk calling to tell us we have to change rooms, right now, and she%26#39;s not kidding. I call the girl at the desk and begin to beg, my basic argument being ';No fair, we were stuck on a bus when you called and now we only have an hour to dress and get to our dinner reservations that I had to make a week in advance and I need to shower and fix my hair and iron my husband%26#39;s shirt and, besides, it%26#39;s my anniversary, waaah!'; It didn%26#39;t work. The staff at the front desk of the New York Hilton have no romance in their souls. They%26#39;re sending up a guy to move us in five minutes.

Scott and I launch into our own version of ';The Three (Two) Stooges Pack Up';. We rush around, bumping into the furniture and each other as we stuff our things into any available container. We%26#39;re still bouncing off the walls when the guy shows up with the new keys, ready to kick us out, but with no luggage cart for our stuff. I%26#39;m sure the bell staff in New York have seen a lot but I think that I can safely say that this guy wasn%26#39;t prepared for what awaited him in room 30something. A harried Scott answered the door and got a tad annoyed at the lack of a luggage cart. Scott is quite a big guy and can look somewhat imposing when upset. (Actually, he%26#39;s a gentle giant. I%26#39;m the big meanie.) It probably didn%26#39;t help that he was still sporting an outfit that only an LSU fan or someone suffering from a serious emotional disturbance would ever wear. In the background I was bashing around, screeching like a banshee and using lots of words nice Baptist girls from Mississippi aren%26#39;t supposed to say as I simultaneously tried to pack my suitcase and stuff my size 12 backside into my size 10 ';nice'; slacks. Poor, poor bell guy. He took off to find a luggage cart. I never saw him again.

As soon as I got my pants zipped up I grabbed the keys and raced off to our new room with a load of stuff. Room 14something. Well, Room 14something is completely unacceptable, too close to the elevators and the ice machine and, more importantly, no room safe. I hate being next to the elevators and just wouldn%26#39;t be happy leaving our stuff out while we%26#39;re not in the room. Another call to the heartless staff at the front desk snags me room 936 but I%26#39;ll have to come down for the room key myself. (I think the bell staff is now afraid of the crazy rednecks from room 30something). Down the elevators and over to the 50 foot desk to find two receptionists and a long, long line. I know what I did is rude, unforgivable even, but I couldn%26#39;t help myself. I cut in line. I%26#39;m really sorry, but I had no choice. So, if you were in that crummy queue on the afternoon of January 4, 2007 and were cut off by a crazy woman dressed in evening wear from the waist down and a T shirt and pony-tail from the waist up, I apologize.

Back up to Room 14something to grab my load of stuff and then down to Room 936. Much better, quiet, at the end of the hall and with a safe. Now I have to find my hubby. I call Room 30something, no answer. I catch him in Room 14something a bit confused but relieved that I%26#39;ve finally found a spot that both the Hilton and his nutty wife can agree on. A few minutes later and he%26#39;s made it to our new room with all of the rest of our pile of stuff, no luggage cart (I have no idea what happened to the bell guy.) and looking like he could really use a shower. Too bad, reservations at Joe Allen wait for no man, even a slightly sweaty one. We jump into whatever clothes we can find and rush out the door, headed for 46th Street.

I%26#39;ve never really run in heels before. At home the most I%26#39;ve done is stroll from the parking lot into the restaurant. Suddenly I%26#39;m jogging across city blocks and some of them were those really long Avenue ones too. Somewhere around 49th Street the adrenaline wore off and my body realized exactly what it was that it was doing and went on strike. First my back began to ache and then my calves cramped up but I was determined. By the time we arrived at Joe Allen I was a limping, panting mess, hair straggling down my face and hands clutching at the stitch in my side. There%26#39;s a lesson in this somewhere. Maybe it%26#39;s to stop being so cheap and learn to take a taxi.

There was a line to check in and we saw several people turned away so I was glad I had made reservations. I checked my coat for the first time in my life and I felt so sophisticated, so Big City. I never cease to marvel at the stupid things that impress me. Joe Allen is a lot smaller than I expected, no wonder it%26#39;s so hard to get reservations. After all the excitement of this afternoon we decide that we both could use a drink so we order a liter of wine and a batch of chicken wings. The wine comes in a pitcher shaped like the Kool-Aid man. Off my feet, drinking cheap red wine and eating chicken wings, this is my idea of a good time. For entrees Scott orders the meatloaf and I have the chicken sandwich and we share back and forth. Scott liked the potatoes, I liked the spinach and we both enjoyed the chicken. The meatloaf was a little bland for us, but we%26#39;re from Cajun Country and like our spice. Joe Allen is a fun place and everyone there seemed like they were ready to have a good time. I asked a guy at the table next to ours to take our picture and he was more than happy to. After the wine I got a little too chatty and asked the for entire table%26#39;s opinion of Beauty and the Beast. They were happy to tell me what a great show was in store for us. Everyone was happy, happy. All of the tables were full of cheerful people eating and drinking and talking and laughing. Just the way I like it. For dessert we shared an apple and berry tart. We both had coffees and I had a Baileys and Scott some sort of scotch. We took our time and didn%26#39;t feel at all rushed. The waiter was pretty cute too.

We were well mellowed out by time we finally left for the theater and I%26#39;m afraid I couldn%26#39;t find my little coat check thingy. This upset the guy at the desk to no end and he demanded a detailed description of my jacket, including the brand. Heck if I knew. The best description of my jacket would be that it%26#39;s the one back there looks the least likely to be wanted by any of the other customers. Not so sophisticated after all, I guess.

We%26#39;re seeing Beauty and the Beast tonight. I had three criteria when I was choosing a show. 1) It had to be big and splashy. We only get touring companies down here and I wanted to see something with an intricate, fancy set. 2) It had to be discounted. We%26#39;re broke. And 3) It had to be something that would neither put Scott to sleep or cause him to disappear on me. At Les Mis Scott slept through the entire show, including the battle scene. At Phantom he went to the restroom at intermission and never returned. He claims that the men%26#39;s room at the theater was packed so he slipped over to the bar next door to use theirs. Well, he couldn%26#39;t use the bathroom without buying a drink, now, could he? That would have been so rude. Anyway, I figured that with Beauty and the Beast he would at least know the story and most of the music. Beauty and the Beast is my absolute favorite Disney film. When my daughter was little I dragged her to the movies at least once a week to see it. I have the soundtrack on CD and I still watch the VHS by myself sometimes. I%26#39;m a big ole dork.

We had seats at the front of the first mezzanine and I thought they were great. You could really see the entire production from there. Besides, I%26#39;m pretty short and it was nice not having anyone in front of me. I thought the whole show was wonderful and happily boo-hooed through a lot of it. It was partly the story, partly the wine, and partly seeing all the little girls in the audience when my own little girl is all grown up. Mostly it was just that I enjoy a good cry. Scott never understands this. He cried when his mom died and when he hit his thumb with the hammer but that%26#39;s pretty much it. He might have shed a tear when LSU lost the Florida game, but I doubt it. Cold as ice that man.

At intermission Scott headed off to the bar for drinks. I almost always drink either wine or beer (Scott usually drinks either beer or beer.) but I was feeling adventurous and told him to surprise me. I don%26#39;t know if he was trying to cheer me up or what but he came back with a double Courvoisier! I didn%26#39;t know whether to drink it or take out an insurance policy on it. I%26#39;m usually kind of a cheapskate but decided to forget the money and just appreciate the gesture and enjoyed the rest of the show while slowly sipping my classy drink. I take it back, Scott. You%26#39;re not cold. You%26#39;re a sweetie-pie.

The rest of the evening is kind of fuzzy what with the cognac (and the wine and the Baileys) but I do remember walking back feeling very contented with my lot in life and very, very lucky to be in such a fantastic city on such a lovely night with my wonderful husband who still loves me 26 years and 30 pounds later.

I do love a run-on sentence

Jennifer

Our Anniversary Trip-Day 1, Pt. 2 (An Evening Out)

omg Jennifer - you%26#39;ve had me crying with laughter!!!

Our Anniversary Trip-Day 1, Pt. 2 (An Evening Out)

I have to say that I love your writing! Hilarious!!!! I love it! I%26#39;m sitting here grinning at work and wondering if anyone else notices. Am really happy you had a great time in NY and thanks for providing us all that entertainment. Anxiously awaiting for the next parts. Please, let there be lots of parts! :-)

Annoying the natives! Alphabet soup! You are hilarious

After your dealing with the Hilton staff (not to mention trotting through Times Square in heels), I%26#39;m ready to make you an honorary New Yorker.

I don%26#39;t want this trip report to end! You sound like so much fun, Jennifer! I%26#39;m really enjoying this, keep it up!

Once again, fabulous. I think WE (the rest of us) should take trip notes, and get YOU to write our reports. This is one of the most enjoyable reports I%26#39;ve read.

Jennifer,

One of the most entertaining trip reports I have read in quite a while.

Thanks!!!

I concur with the others - I was LOL, very funny %26amp; amusing.

Should I drink it or take out an insurance policy?

Priceless, looking forward to the next installment.

Why on earth did Hilton ask(demand) you to move?

I am heading to the city tomorrow and I am already thinking how your trip reports are going to be a hard act to follow when I return!