New York, New York
Written By: Gringo

Like one of those tacky t-shirts with the heart symbol on them, I love New York. Not in a gay way, I just love the city. Where else could I have had a bird crap on my head while gazing at the Statue of Liberty, destroy someone's lunch with my ass on a subway train, be mocked by Joe and his friends for my British accent, and get laughed at by a Plaza room service guy for watching Muppets Take Manhattan? Nowhere else! That's the answer to your ridiculously long question! Well, it wasn't your question, it was mine, but fuck you all the same, princess. In November 2002, I went on a week-long holiday (or vacation, if you're an American. See how helpful I am? No? Fuck you!) to New York City, staying most nights at the smelly - but conveniently located - Quality Hotel on Broadway. The last night, I stayed at the Plaza, which was a winner. Why did I go? Because (1) England sucks, (2) I've always wanted to, (3) I GOTS THE MONEY! and (4) it was a chance to meet Joe after a certain Californian debacle which left me wandering E3 2002 on my own and him stuck with his tubby friend Keran somewhere in Los Angeles.

Anyway, that's why I was in New York. I'll write more about what I got up to with Joe and his friends Keran (a fatty, by his own admission) and Colin (who looks like a hobo but is really a winner) in a second article. Ooh, you're so lucky! For now, I'll concentrate on the stupidity that happened to me when they weren't there. It was going so well - my flight had landed, I'd got to my hotel and, well, sure the room stank and the bed was rock solid, and there was an ice machine right outside my door that went PTCHEE PTCHEE 24 hours a day (yes, that noise EXACT), but I was only going to be sleeping there. Unless I got raped! So I got on the subway. Not having a clue where I was going or what I was doing was a bad first step, but then I had to go and sit down. As I spotted an empty seat, I parked my ass. Doing so, I felt something squashing. My fears (SO AFRAID!) were confirmed when the woman next to me said "Hey! Thanks a lot for sitting on my lunch!" I glanced out the corner of my eye to see her tug a flattened sandwich-in-a-bag from under my ass. What did I do next? Apologise? No! I looked the other way and IGNORED HER COMPLETELY, getting off at the next stop. Fuck your lunch, lady!

During my time in New York, I wandered round most of the tourist sites. On the first night, I went to the top of the Empire State Building, just like King Kong, but without a screaming woman in my hand. When at the top, I called Joe. I recall the conversation being filled with expletives and whatnot, and not actually having much point. I also took taxis everywhere because the buses stank, I don't like walking great distances and I got lost on the subway several times. Although I only sat on a sandwich once. Oh! There was another cuntish thing I did. I was trying to get my subway card to work, but the machine just wasn't accepting it. This was one of those full-height gates, the kind you can't jump over LIKE JOE AND COLIN HMM? So I tried to move out of the way of the impatient fuckers trying to get by, but some asshole behind me put his card through but kept walking forward, as if to force me forwards. I decided to go through the gate, but it wasn't till I heard the gate click after me and him screaming "YOU USED MY TICKET!" that I realised what I'd done. Again, instead of doing the decent thing and stopping to make amends, I went off to catch my train.

Other sites I went to included the Museum of Natural History, which was very big and very informative and all sorts of wizzles. I went to Times Square and contemplated joining the NYPD, but then realised I was too much of a sissy Mary to ever be a policeman. I also went to see the Statue of Liberty, and took several pictures of its backside, which at the time I thought was hilarious. In retrospect, I have very little of the funny. There were a lot of American school children on the island, and they all either had pasty, spotty skin or were humorously fat. On the ferry back from Liberty Island, I heard perhaps the lamest expression of the entire holiday. It topped a previous cheesy American outburst I'd found particularly memorable when I was in Los Angeles a few months back. We (being me and my imaginary friends) were in some toy store when a woman rushed past us, grabbed a package off the shelf and exclaimed "Oh my goodness! Baby Star Wars! That's SO CLEVER!" Yeah, lady! Real clever! They took the characters...and made smaller versions of them! A WINNER! It was my favourite expression of stupid Yankee - until New York happened.

Bear in mind it had been raining really heavily that day. My neat coiffure was now sodden, making me look like some sort of drowned cunty, but instead of being downhearted at being very wet, I was cheered when I overheard some fat man offer his words of wisdom to his kids. I couldn't believe the words were coming out his mouth and not some soap opera when he said, "Well, you know what they say about lemons. When you're given lemons, you gotta make some lemonade. So you know what we're going to do? We're gonna make some lemonade - let's buy some umbrellas!" YEAH, MAN! UMBRELLAS! I'LL DRINK TO THAT! Get it? Drink? Lemonade? With the umbrellas? And the lemons? And the...oh, forget it, you cunt. If you need your jokes explained to you, Gringo won't be here to hold your hand! But maybe he will hold something else for you, eh? Ho ho! Wait, why am I typing in the third person? CONFUSION IS THE KEY. Oh, and when I sat down in Battery Park after visiting the Statue of Liberty, a bird crapped on my head. I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when I feel this horrible splat on my head, and see bird shit running down my shoulders. Nice.

Of course, I thought it was important to tell Joe about this and called him to inform him of my shit-stained status. While still in the park. The worst part was only having a couple of tissues in my pocket to wipe away the shit with, and having to take the subway for what seemed like hours (probably just twenty minutes) with this strange smell emanating from above my forehead. Anyway! I got a shower and all of the bird poop was gone. Now, see that picture below (you scroll, naughty)? That's me fulfilling one of my lifetime ambitions. Yes, I met Richard Nixon! Well, I met a plastic version of him, but I was impressed the people at Madame Tussaud's had even painted on a realistic-looking five o' clock shadow and sweaty patches on Nixon's face. I resisted the urge to call Nixon a cunty, seeing as how the statue wasn't a real person and all. Instead, I went back to my hotel room and dozed off. Mercifully, it was my room in the Plaza, and not the shitbox of a hotel I'd made the mistake of booking originally. It was so bad, I even chose to skip one of the nights I'd paid for and sleep over at Joe's university. Money waste? Of course! So, to get back to what I was on about, I went back to my room and dozed off.

When I woke up, Muppets Take Manhattan was on television. I decided to watch a bit of it, and ordered some room service. When it arrived, the guy who wheeled my little table in took one look at the television, then at me, with a big grin on his face. He sarcastically said, "You're watching this? Isn't there anything better to do?" I blushed like a Dan who has just read his own articles, and then tipped the guy far too much because I was trying to get him out of the room. After watching the movie and eating my fat burger, I wandered round Central Park. This story is really exciting, eh? Oh! There was yet another cunt! In the tea room of the Plaza (yes, I'm an upper class old woman), some dickhead at the table opposite me felt the need to talk SO EVERYONE IN THE ROOM COULD HEAR. He was going on about his house in London. I wasn't listening in, but his deafening voice was impossible to block out. But when he said, "I don't like modern homes, because you can't pretend you're living in a chateau" I just had to listen in. I hope he didn't see the sarcastic smirk on my face. If you want to live in a fucking chateau, try moving to France, you pompous penis!

So, did I like New York? Yes, you dumb cunt! It was great! I got to see a lot of tourist sites, I got to see someone fall on their ass while skating in that icy bit near the Rockefeller Centre, and I sat on someone's lunch. Such variety! Sure, the guy in the Plaza was a cunt, and every single driver on the streets seems to feel the need to blast their horns every five seconds. But in terms of a choice destination, it beats London worse than a redneck husband does his no-good wife when she forgets to pick up her welfare cheque. Plus, staying in a oofa hotel on the last night helped give me a very favourable impression of the city. Oh, just to show I'm not a total prick and do actually apologise for my misdemeanours sometimes, let me tell you a story! I was on my way back to the Plaza late at night when some old woman approached me. She asked where such-and-such a street was. I stared at her, looked forlorn and sighed, "Sorry, I'm British". She nodded, as if to say "Ah, right. Fuck off, then" and that was that. I'm all heart!

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