Friday, October 30, 2009

don't ask, and please don't tell

Last weekend's NYC trip started off very very well.

I tensed up for a minute when I saw the long security line at Dulles, but they had things moving pretty well. We made friends with the officer monitoring the line, hearing his stories about all the idiots he deals with on a regular basis. (Water is a liquid!) We got thru the gates without much hassle at all, except from the hyper-sensitive monkey behind me in line, complaining that my picture taking was a security threat.

JetBlue had the plane loaded and ready to go in record time. They called a quick roll of missing passengers, decided that enough of us were there, so they bounced out early. Captain Mike was pretty motivated to get to the city, bc our flight time was quicker than expected, too. We were on the ground 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Whooooohoooo!

JetBlue had free DirecTV on all the seatbacks, and a cool GPS display on one of the channels. I thought this was about the awesomest thing ever. Then I was told that all the airlines have this now. So for you non-frequent fliers, check this out. You jet-setters can just STFU, thanks.


The ride back to the city was a bit more challenging than it should have been. Our ride got jammed behind a tractor-trailer wreck, then we couldn't find each other at the airport, finally we got lost on the drive into the city. Lucky that Cap't Mike had a booty call on his mind, bc our 20 minutes early arrival turned into 20 minutes late for dinner reservations.

We met with a few friends at CrifDogs, downtown NYC. The plans were to eat CrifDogs for dinner, but not at the restaurant, exactly. We were just hanging in the staging area. CrifDogs is a tiny little place, couple of 80s video games on the side (Double Dragon & Donkey Kong!), and counter service at the rear. JB picked up a couple of PBRs for $2.50 a can, and I hit the Gennie Cream Ale for $3.25. Excellent prices for any bar, much less in the city!

The owner of CrifDogs also owns the place next door; "Please Don't Tell" (PDT). It's a classic cocktail lounge with a tip of Bogart's fedora to the speakeasy style.

There is no street entrance to PDT. You arrive at Crif's, enter the old 1930's telephone booth, and pick up the handset to call the hostess at PDT. She confirms your reservations, then opens the secret back panel of the phone booth. For real. It's warm and dark inside, just enough light to see each other, music present, but quiet enough to enjoy the conversation.

At PDT, a cocktail is art. Calling these guys "bartenders" doesn't do justice. They are creative experts, using the finest liquors and the freshest ingredients to present drinks that simply amazing. These drinks are so complex, your head will spin before getting drunk. Please, check out last winter's cocktail menu. You'll understand.

We had 7 people in our party, so we were able to taste dozens of different drinks. I started the evening with a Benton's Old Fashioned; bacon-infused whiskey w maple & orange flavors. It'll be my go-to the next time I'm there. It's perfect. Check out the vid: PDT had a guest bartender, David Shenaut, performing the night we were there. His home bar is at the Teardrop Cocktail Lounge in Portland OR. This made things a little more difficult for us, bc now we had to work thru both the standard PDT menu and David's special menu that he brought with him. Challenge!

So, simply put, Friday night was a blast. Big love to my buddy Jon, who coordinated the evening.

Saturday morning started much too early at Nevada Smith's football pub. My brother-in-law is the president of the Arsenal Football Club NYC fan club, and he def knows the right place to hang out and watch a match. Click the link to the bar, watch the flash vid load, and that's exactly how the place fills. Just before kickoff, there were only a handful of people there. 15 mins later, and it was packed, and loud, and jumping, and singing. And singing. And more singing; 2 hours of singing. And maybe a few pints of beer, with a side order of singing.

Arsenal was the first match of the morning, and they won handily. The whole place was in good spirits. Chelsea Football Club was playing in game two. Chelsea's owner, Roman Abramovich, was in Nevada Smith's to watch the game with his kid (and bodyguard). I did get a chance to meet & chat for a bit, but didn't want to interrupt his day too much. After the game, he posed for this pic with a bunch of the Arsenal guys, in front of the 20' Arsenal flag:

We stayed for most of a 3rd game, before bouncing out to meet the rest of the fam for lunch at some random, but tasty, Middle Eastern place.

After crashing for a nap in the afternoon, it was time to get ready for Halloween night in Grenwich Village. One of the biggest parties of the year in the city that never sleeps. I was stylin' as the scarecrow, complete with extra straw from a wrecked Buffett skirt.

The Halloween party didn't go exactly as planned. Don't ask. Next time, I'll know better.

(pssssst... before I go..... you want one of Mariah's monkeys. Put it on your Christmas list.)

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FloodFill kinna reminds me of Tetris, but with colors instead of shapes.

Guess the Crime is TSG flashified, matching the best mug shots to their violations. Dom, I'm keeping an eye out for your momma's pic.

Kerixep? WTF does that mean? Totally addictive, though.

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My brain at 3am:

If you're online at 3am, make sure to validate your actions. (clickpic for better view)


After all this dirty play, I can't believe nobody had the nads to stand up to this chick:

Brian who?

I miss summer already.


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