New York City - 10 March 2012

It's been a few years - maybe 6 or 7 - since I was last in New York City to not access one of its airports or train stations. For me, NYC has been a means to get to so many ends over the years, but I've finally decided it was worth being an end for once.

I drove up with my family to Brooklyn for what was, unbeknownst to me, a baby shower for my cousin. I had thought it was the family going to visit my cousins' new home, but I was surprised to be greeted by a bunch of happy young couples and screaming children as we arrived. 

The soon to be new parents: my cousin Dennis and his wife, Issy

When my travel buddy and New Jerseyian friend, Karen, finally contacted me, I headed out to Canal and Broadway for a food and photography expedition. Unsurprisingly, Karen was late, and I spent my time waiting in an alleyway taking photographs of all the incredibly textured walls, graffite, and trash that line NYC's streets.

Karen called me from across the street, dressed to the nines, looking like a supermodel, wearing heels, and making me look like an underdressed (short) putz. We walked around Chinatown, Little Italy, and SoHo. In Chinatown, we purchased some roasted cashews and dragon fruit - an odd looking watered down white kiwi-esque fruit from Vietnam. In Little Italy, we were heckled by faux-Italians from Jersey to come eat at their restaurants. Ha!, we thought. As if shitty, overpriced Italian food could compare to our planned dinner. As we approached SoHo, Karen described it as an area where young douche bags congregate, an astute observation that I immediately deemed all too accurate within seconds. On the way back to Chinatown, I noticed a Russian Orthodox chapel dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, which I decided to check out considering my love of Eastern Orthodox art and an odd interest in St. Michael. Karen refused to enter, thinking she would catch fire as she touched the door knob. Somehow, the gay Jew made it in and out in one piece.

After that, we checked out a hipster bookstore that Karen fell in love with, and then made our way to our dinner destination. Big Wing Wong was a discreet little Cantonese establishment with all Chinese patrons and not a peep of English to be heard. Karen and I inhaled some honey pork and congee, duck, dumpling and noodle soup, tea, and Tsingtao. We sat there, transported back to China, with belt-busting bellies and smiles just as big.

After dinner, we waddled over to the Subway (which, as a DC resident, I kept calling the Metro) and got off near Time Square (ew) to take the NJ Transit (surprisingly nice) to Summit, New Jersey (ew). En route, we snacked on some cannoli that we had picked up on the way to the Subway. Needless to say, Karen got powdered sugar all up on her.

Karen's wonderful mother, Marta, picked us up at the station and drove us back to their brand new home (after a pit stop at CVS to get Karen's film roll developed). We all sat around drinking some wine that I brought because its name is my nickname for Karen: Bitch. Despite wanting to pass out, we headed downstairs for a viewing of Boondock Saints, a bizarre film that was strangely enjoyable.

Thanks to the Knauff's for hosting me, and a special thanks to Johnny Knauff for allowing me to borrow his bed while he was at his dad's.