Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Walking Around

I am the uber-pedestrian. I love walking around cities. For example - New York City:   Where else can you find a tourist trap that caters to out-of-towners that want to view drag queens in a safe, family friendly environment (Lucky Cheng’s) that is connected by a dark catacomb in the basement to a tourist trap that caters to people who think.  they want to watch the S and M/bondage community at “work” without getting dirty; it’s ok because you only have to watch, you don’t have to play…you can return to Indiana unscathed and unblemished except for your stories of “the freaky New York lifestyle” (La Nouvelle Justine)?  Nope, we don’t have that here in Boston.  No sir.  Of course, we don’t have a Disney World outpost either.  

Sadly, I don’t visit New York all that often these days.  Time was that I’d bolt out of school with the bell, scoot to Logan and grab a shuttle to LaGuardia, do a set in the city and then take a 4 hour bus ride back to Boston, sleep on the bus and then go back to teaching the kids the next morning.  But, that got expensive.  And, the New York scene is heavily “bring 10 friends to get on stage” based.  It’s hard to bring friends if you live 4-5 hours drive away.  And bringer shows are really less about whether you are going to get “seen” by someone who can actually do something for you and all about making money for the club.  So, although I still get some calls from one particular club, I’ve stopped that practice.  Plus, the high school I work at likes me to be fully functional in the morning – go figure.  And, did I mention it was expensive?

I don’t pretend to really know jack shit about New York.  But, I do like to walk around it.  Did I mention I love walking around cities?  When I lived in London, hell, when I lived in Worcester, I’d walk around – everywhere.  I find you get a better sense of a city when you are a pedestrian.  In London, you’d discover that you could walk from Knightsbridge to Piccadilly Circus to Leicester Square to Covent Garden.  Hell, if you were feeling really ambitious you could do the “Werewolf of London” pub crawl.  As long as you hit Lee Ho Fook’s (in Soho in Leicester Square) and the London Hilton (Piccadilly Circus-ish – it’s the home of Trader Vic’s), you were good.  Everything else was gravy.  Ok, everything else was gray and helped to add to the drunk.  The London Hard Rock Café was down the street from the Hilton a ways.  When we were there, I ordered my roommate a cocktail made of Drambuie and scotch while he was in the bathroom.  He was kinda pissed.  But he drank it.  

And, I highly recommend getting beef chow mein at Lee Ho Fook’s and a Piña Colada at Trader Vic’s.  Just to say you did it.

And I recommend visiting Lucky Cheng’s and La Nouvelle Justine.  Just to say you did it.



4 comments:

Latigo Flint said...

I know exactly what you mean Amanda. I moved to Central California for a couple years because of the Dwight Yoakam song, Streets of Bakersfield.

Ithiel said...

Werewolves of London has always held a special place in my heart, ever since my high school debate teacher interrupted his own lecture on flowing to sing that song because it happened to be on the radio.

Then again, Milo was always a little different. I could still swear his coffee cup was full of vodka all day...

Dave Morris said...

You are uber-cool. I love the term uber.

Amandarama said...

Latigo -Did Bakersfield live up to the hype?

ithiel - Oh, the good old days where you could be around children and drink on the job...

Dave - Thanks, Dave. You're pretty nifty too.