So, because I promised last week to start telling you about my trip to New York City before I get really old and senile and lose all my teeth, I shall. I've already started forgetting stuff, which is really not good, seeing as I haven't even sent my best friend Slut and her sister or her momma any photos yet, which makes me a total douche. But whatever. We all knew that anyway.
This trip was sort of a trip of a lifetime since NYC is a place I've wanted to see since I was but a pre-pubescent ugly girl who stuffed her bra with socks to make it look like she actually had boobs. So, as you can imagine, the excitement just thinking about the prospect of going was overwhelming. Luckily, my meds keep me stable enough that I didn't go jumping off balconies or running naked into the street, screaming, "I'M GOING TO NEW YORK!!! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD!!"
The day came, and we met the tour guide Cindy at the mall at 5:30 a.m. That's in the morning, in case you didn't catch that. Yes, it was still dark out. Driving to the mall that early in the day to catch the bus tour irked me, and yet, I was still smiling. Why, you ask? Because, not only was I going to spend five days with Slut, her sister, and her mother, but I was also going to spend five days away from cooking, listening to kids argue and punch each other in the throat, and just thinking about that made me a very happy woman.
Notice the eyes. One is closed because it's 5:30 in the morning.
It turns out that getting up at 4:30 a.m. makes for a very long day. Who knew? By the time we got to the border near Brockville and Syracuse, I felt like it was most definitely time for bed, but it was actually only ALMOST breakfast time. Not a good sign.
The border took forever to get through. We watched the guards through the window as they stood around the water cooler chatting. I'm not being allegorical either. Is that even the right term for what I'm trying to say? I have no idea. Typical of me. I'll just pretend it is. Let's go with it. So, there are about 25 guards inside, laughing and talking and drinking bottles of Coke and cups of coffee, and IGNORING US COMPLETELY.
It took them 45 minutes to deal with us, guys. FORTY-FIVE FREAKING MINUTES. Cindy, our guide, was not happy, and told us that this was the longest time BY FAR that she had ever had to wait at the border with a group. We felt like prisoners, not allowed to get off the bus. I'm sure we've all been scarred for life. I know I have been. Obviously.
I was pretty sure it took so long because there was obviously a terrorist on board, probably Cindy herself. Or maybe Slut's momma.
But no, the border guards were just ignoring us.
We finally got to the Big Apple shortly after 3 p.m., and, except for waiting AGAIN (conspiracy?? no kidding) for our room keys, we were there!
All I wanted to do was lie down and have a wee nap. But Slut, her sister and momma had different plans. Apparently, we were going to get tickets for a same-day Broadway show. Awesome. Seeing as I knew absolutely nothing about NYC, I just nodded and followed directions, carefully remembering to wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth as we made our way to the TKTS booth on Broadway.
We ended up getting awesome tickets for the show La Cage Aux Folles, starring Kelsey Grammer, which put my panties in a knot. I mean, how often does one get to see Frasier in the skin?! Not often, that's how often.
I was so excited about this, I think I must have talked non-stop about it to everyone. I didn't notice at the time, but I'm pretty sure they were all ignoring me, which is rather rude, but I forgave them once we had arrived at the theatre.
Because this is what we saw:
And then Slut's momma did this:
because that's how she rolls. Literally. In a wheelchair. Well, only for some of the trip, really. Actually, I should have had one as well. It would have kept my whining to a minimum.
All in all, the show itself was great, although Slut's momma didn't really like it. I think it's probably because there weren't any naked gay men in it.
What I liked even more than the show was the theatre. I didn't realize that the theatres on Broadway were so glamorous, replete with red velvet chairs and gold trim, as well as gorgeous flowing stage curtains.
Not sure why these seats at the Longacre Theatre look black. I swear they were red. Either that, or my eyes were hemorrhaging, which is totally possible.
And the atmosphere was amazing, despite the presence of the girl in front of us who thought she was pretty hot with her eleventy hundred carat diamond ring and crystal-encrusted cell phone, as she chewed gum noisily through the first act.
I planned on taking a five-hour city tour the next morning, which excited me, except for the fact that I was starting to feel unwell.Typical. Give me the moment of a lifetime, and I end up with a snot-blocked nose, runny eyes, and a rat caught in my throat.