Our journey to the U.S was a seven hour flight sat amongst the runners up of the World Teen dance group Championship. These were twelve of the most self obsessed, whinging morons i have ever come across who spent the entire flight wandering round changing seats and shouting across the cabin at each other. One of the little brats actually fell asleep stretched across Sandra's flight table. I attempted to punch him in the face as he slept but San restrained me although later she did look like she was going to stab him with a plastic fork. Tellingly, as we came into JFK to land the captain announced that we had the runners up of the world teen dance championship on board and asked for a round of applause, the only people who clapped on the entire 747 were the people in the dance team.We were staying at the Hotel Chelsea in the Chelsea district and arrived there after nine o clock. The place is known for it's famous residents - From Dylan Thomas & Brendan Behan to Bukowski and Jimi Hendrix (it's the place where Sid Vicious shot Nancy) and is a kind of shrine. It's delapidated and ghostly with art work lining the corridors and the huge wrought iron staircase. We arrive in the foyer and taking one look at the Hobo's surrounding the entrance San looks like she might cry. She doesn't though; she saves that until she see's the state of our room.
As soon as it goes dark, it becomes terrifying as every footfall from two rooms in every direction sounds like it is your room. Just when you become used to this the valve radiators that heat the room kick in like it's the end of the world: pipes clanging, steam hissing & whistling. It's fair to say we didn't get much sleep the first night however, within a day we are used to the ramshackle nature of the hotel and it becomes almost comfortable.
The next day we head out of Chelsea and walk the 20 minutes up 8th Avenue to see the sights of NYC. I have never been to New York before and can tell you that 'Friends' have lied to us; The place is like the living embodiment of a panic attack - there is even steam pouring out the ground which can't be right. The people are rude, the food is appalling and i would have slashed my wrists if i had to live here for more than a week. I have never heard anyone say they don't like the place though, San & me must be the only people who don't heart NY, in fact i think i love New Skem more.
We go back to the refuge of the Chelsea in the afternoon for a sleep. San is dead to the world but i can't sleep for the combination of humid spring air, the wailing sirens, the police chopper flying overhead and the mexicans yelling at each other in the next appartment block. In my head i make a list of the pros & cons of New York:
Con's
- Rude, self obsessed people.
- Complete lack of humour, sarcasm and cynicism.
- Fat soacked bucket fulls of slop as the only option for food.
- Beer that contains so much water you would have to mainline it directly into your arm to feel anything.
- Taxi Drivers who no idea or interest in where any location is.
- Plumbing that has one setting (burn your face off) and explodes on every 20 minutes whether you want it to or not.
- Noone can understand a single word i say.
- 8 million people live here.
- Everyone driving like they are playing a video game called 'Mad Screaming Death Car Rally.'
Pro's
- Cheap Shoes.
Bring on Boston...
Sandra's Wardrobe Rating for the Hotel Chelsea (see picture): 6/10 Easily fitted in, gained a mark for the light but lost marks for finnese.
Listening to: Songs from Sun Street - Saw Doctors, Pneumonia - Whiskeytown
