Big City at night

We decided together that the one and only Broadway show we would want to see was "Wicked".  All of us could enjoy it, it was family friendly fare, and I had loved the book long before the play had come out.  Nicho and Richard both loved the music and although Richard had seen it before with daughter Lindley, it was going to be my and Nicho's first time.   Nicho had his chance to dress up with tie and jacket and we rode the subway into the city with high anticipation.

There were so many restaurants to choose from that we hadn't made a reservation, preferring instead to be "in the moment" and see what showed up.  Less than a block from the Gershwin Theater we found our place, an upscale, modern restaurant with a soaring ceiling and a pricey menu.  Perfect.

Avoiding the pasta sauces, we dove into our dinner, snapping lots of shots throughout the meal, then making our way through the happy crowds to our destination.  The Gershwin is lovely, everything you would want in a theater and there truly isn't a bad seat in the house.  We climbed the stairs to our seats and settled in for the show.

And then it began.  The low rumbling, squirming movement of "what the hell did I eat"?  All through the fantastical and funny show it went.  My mostly silent suffering was undetected by Nicho and Richard.  We laughed, we cried, we applauded and we thoroughly enjoyed the fabulous cast of this year's "Wicked".  Once it was over, we were looking at a very long subway ride home, so off I went to the bathroom.  And the line was incredible.    Ladies, you know that feeling!  It's packed, don't dare take too long, need to wait!  Some relief?  Maybe later?  Oh no, we still have that subway ride.

I darted in and out and then down two flights of stairs, still clear I was not fit for a long subway ride.  By now Nicho was the proud owner of a ballcap with Wicked emblazoned on it.  Ah!  Another bathroom.  Empty.  Whew.

Stepping outside of the theater, one of the bicycle cabs was right up on the sidewalk outside of the Gershwin.  And a guard was uncerimoneously grabbing him by the collar and shoving him and his cab off the walkway.  The cabbie was smiling and apologizing and the guard was loud, New York, and unashamedly rough.  It was uncomfortable to watch.

Now I can tolerate the subway ride home.  So it's around 11PM and we pile into a packed car.  At the end of the car.  And the shuffling, pained faced and homeless man who followed us in kept staring at us, happily seated at the end of the car.  Standing, he asked if we would be on long.  Twice.  Richard replied "yes", but that we would happily give up our seat.  He declined.  After two interactions I stood up and walked to another section.   Nicho was right behind me, but Richard stayed put.

We had all noticed the smell, it was obvious he hadn't bathed in a very long time and further, that he had some kind of foot infection.  Later I found out he had eventually told Richard that his feet hurt.  I finally commented to Nicho how grateful we must be, we both knew where we were going to sleep tonight, that man didn't.  About this time I glanced at the other end of the car and realized we were now the interlopers.  Both ends of the car were being occupied by folks seeking shelter for the night in the heated subway cars.  The man at the other end had his shopping cart filled with belongings and looked to already be asleep.

Richard eventually joined us, after finally insisting that the man sit down and we rode quietly out to our apartment as the car emptied out like a ketchup bottle on the long the ride home.

On another night, we passed a highly intoxicated and possibly drugged young woman who was not rousing with her friends encouragement.  She was seated on the cold cement of the sidewalk and was unable to sit up without support.  Others nearby strongly suggested she needed medical help. Her short dress and no coat were no match for the chilly night and there was real concern about her condition.  We kept walking and five minutes later heard the sound of a siren, hopefully called to help her.

We never felt threatened or at risk for a mugging.  We actually felt very safe, and the only time I was uncomfortable (other than the gastroturbulence at Wicked!) was the night we went late to Times Square.  The packed humanity made it hard to stay together and I was just not a fan of the crowded area.  It was as bright as the Vegas strip too.  There were a number of street performers dressed in costumes and it reminded me of both Paris and Rome that way.  People paid to have their picture taken with them, it's how we ended up with Nicho and Super Mario.

My best memories of night are both the 30 Rock Christmas decorations and the lovely area of Little Italy.  We had dined in Chinatown one night and walking home, passed under the Christmas lights of Little Italy, with hawkers outside of each restaurant; "Come in!  We have the best food in Little Italy!". "Try our Tirimisu, it's the best in Little Italy!".  "Come in, we have reserved the best table for you!"

Another night, we dined at a bizarre little restaurant near our apartment.  Spur of the moment with no reservation, it was mostly empty.  Bad sign?  But it was warm and the food smelled good, so in we went.  It couldn't have been more than 20 feet square, including a kitchen that was open to the room.   It was decorated in gauzy white, hot as hell, and the service was sketchy but dramatic. When we asked about the wine, they only had one glass of one wine.  What we took to be a display of the four types they served were actually the only four bottles (all already opened) in the entire restaurant.  I have no recall of the food, but we did enjoy eavesdropping on what was very obviously a first date at the table next to us.  Dude likely wouldn't get a second date after that place.