Smoke Damage (smokedamage) wrote,
Smoke Damage

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We like to party

day two

i have found a little New York Cafe, the kind you see in the movies. I went to a pet store to look at fish prices out of curiosity and because i miss my babies. The prices are about the same numerically (like everything else it seems) but in U$D.

Convicts - white $1.99 / black 4.99
archerfish which i was surprised to see because they are Australian natives 8.44
Angels 2.99
Swordtails and Mollies 1.99
Clown loaches 7.99
Flowerhorns 14.99
Parrots 39.99 for the Medium Red, and 14.99 for the others. (see photo)

listening to people "tawking 'bout dawgs and dorgs" cracks me up

There are christmas lights everywhere, in the streets and the trees and everything. It is quite pretty.

New Yorkers are fairly aggressive street crossers and the drivers are an impatient lot, and not a minute goes by without a horn sounding somewhere. Here a street cop braves the traffic and tries to lay down the law.

there are some swinging Christmas tunes on the radio in the cafe, in fact this morning in the grocery store i was told that there are a couple of radio stations playing ONLY Christmas tunes. I can't imagine it working in Australia, it's a bit much, but i have to say i am starting to enjoy it. But then, i am a sentimental fool.

There are accents everywhere, it's delightful. I saw an Irish boy walking past wearing a Waratahs jersey, i was too surprised to stop him.

Today (or this evening, more accurately, because i while i woke early at 0600, 0700 and then at 0800, i decided it was too early to go out, and thus ended up sleeping in until 1330 as usual) is quite cold, and i probably should have brought out my hat and scarf, but i left them back at the Y. I will catch a cold through my own stupidity, just you watch.

I am beginning to get used to the accents slowly. I can't say i like the money much, it's all very dull. I miss our colourful notes (aka Monopoly money). I am much more conscious of being broke, because a pocketful of coins here, means fuck-all, whereas back home i have had a whole night out with a few beers and a kebab just on the gold coins in my pocket.

They do have kebabs here, but they are called "gyro" i think they are the same, i have yet to try one.

Everything is for sale on the street; bags, scarves, hats, paintings, all sorts of art, and souvenirs. There are vendors selling hotdogs, chestnuts, knish (whatever that is), and those big pretzels that we don't have back home. However the smartest thing i have seen was a few guys with a digital camera, a laptop and a colour printer, offering photos on the spot. $10 a photo and they will keep taking it until you are happy with the photo it seems. I also found some wonderful south American musicians playing on the street under all the bladerunner lights. I called a friend and shared some of the music with her because she needed a little cheering.

Can someone please tell me what this is? And more importantly WHY?

A few hours later i am sitting in an Irish chain pub called Connolly's ( i have a feeling i will be doing this a bit ), drinking a local beer, the Brooklyn Lager. It's a bit dark for a lager, but it tastes pretty good. There are quite a lot of beers to choose from. The Irish beer outnumber the American ones. :)

The New york Pint.
It is smaller than a proper pint but does have the right kind of pint shape. It's bigger than a schooner, and comes in at sixteen ounces, whatever that works out to be.

There is nowhere to smoke here. Drinking in a bar without a cigarette is so not right, and it is beginning to drive me nuts. There are so many smokers here, it's crazy. The streets are full of them, every street corner, every doorway sheltered from the wind has people smoking and enjoying their cigs and the little act of societal rebellion and bonding that smokers have going for them. Every restaurant or bar that i pass has a couple of smokers desperately sucking down their cigs while they slowly turn blue. I am going to need gloves at some point.

Part of the problem that i am having is figuring out what i should be paying for things; $5 for a beer seems a bit steep if you as me, especially since that's $5 USD about $6.50 AUD, which i guess is what you pay in the trendy places, but it's pretty consistent. Perhaps if i was drinking that Millers rubbish or Bud it would be cheaper.

Things are open pretty late here which is fabulous, it's Friday night about seven-thirty and i have just left a travel agents, and a mobile phone shop. Good sign of civilisation.

Smithwicks irish ale is not that good. I rate it behind the YeungLing and the Brooklyn Lager. The Guinness is also really good in some of these places.

I end up in a trendy bar, the SNafu bar as you can see from the photos, which used to be a jiggle joint, which is where i found myself drinking after i got "mugged" here ten years ago. As you can see the smokers are outside making calls and chatting away despite the cold. Inside there were girls dancing on the bar and one of the bartenders (left hit with blue light, on the right is one of tthe customers - there were six of them on the bar at one stage, kinda made it hard to get a beer) decided to get up and shake her thang for a while. So it hasn't change ALL that much from it's jiggle joint days. The staff seem to have a pretty good time there all told. As usual because of my slightly retarded but useful camera, you can't see much, but if you turn off the lights and play the images on your screen with "Can't get you out of my head", "Hey Ya", "Mickey" and "express yourself" really loud and occassionally flash a laser pointer in your eyes you will get the sensation of being there.

The smoke machine in the roof infrequently spewed forth it's contents, and made up for the fact that i wasn't allowed to smoke there.

I met a couple from Pittsburgh (again i maintain the only people who make eye-contact or will talk to you in New York are either out-of-towners or muggers and con men) who invited me to drop by if i make it up there. They also bought me a beer.

I think i had a bit too much of the Brooklyn Lager. Those sixteen ouncers kinda sneak up on you.
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