Weekend Trip

Every time we go to New York these days, I feel like we are missing so much. We are usually there for long enough to do stuff but not long enough to get organized and motivated, plus we are usually tethered to the kid, and I'm such a lightweight anymore that if I'm not asleep by 11 it's a farking miracle. 

And NYAB doesn't drink, so there's that, too. Even if we didn't have the kid, bars and clubs are not his default setting.

So this was a pretty good trip, actually.  We weren't there long enough for me to feel we had time to waste, and we stayed out of the hotel room more or less the entire time until we were ready to go to bed.

We got to Union Station around 11, and Thomas had his first experience with Godiva chocolate. You can't see them here, but he got a chocolate duck. He was quite excited.

Then we got on the train and headed north.  I alternated looking out the window and looking at my BlackBerry, NYAB read Ivanhoe, and the YP played his DS.  An uneventful trip.  Best kind, with that kid in tow.

We got a cab and got to the hotel around 3.  I love love love the Doubletree now.  They give you free cookies at check-in, and they have Neutrogena stuff in the bathrooms, and we got this room where the bedroom is set off from a little office -- with a door. And a lock.  Yeah.   And it's got this crazy lobby that looks like it was designed by Yul Ulu.  (And I can't find any links for that, either, so if you don't know, email and I'll explain.) Unfortunately, I didn't take photos, and can't find any to link to, but imagine lots of skylights, chairs with no arms, and suspended sculptures of glass globs strung on wires. 

So after we got cleaned up a bit, we headed out.  Since I knew Delmonico's was out, and adventures in strange food was out, and I couldn't stand the idea of eating at an effing Fridays or Ruby Tuesday's in Manhattan, I rifled through the hotel tour book for "American fare" and stumbled over the "best burger in New York" entry -- apparently served eight blocks away in the lobby of the Le Parker Meridien Hotel. Finding the hotel was easy.  Finding the joint ... well, see for yourself. This is the only indicator where the place is:

I think the book may have been right. The burgers were excellent. The fries were great. The milkshake was well received by all. We should have bought at least one more.

After dinner, we wandered around a bit, and took the YP to his happiest place on Earth, the M&M store.

And on the way out of there, we bumped into Spiderman.  The YP was delighted to get his autograph.

Then we went to the show, and were surprised to learn we were in the first row.  The YP was alternately very excited at being so close, disturbed by not being able to see, and put out at the amount of dry ice smoke blowing on him.

He was also rather vocal.  He howled out when Oliver Platt came onstage. "That is NOT Frank Sinatra!"  Oy.  Then he turned to us. "WHERE is Frank Sinatra?"  I'd been bashing him to shut up for at least 3 minutes already, so he turns to NYAB, who says, bluntly, "HE IS DEAD."   The YP looks a bit stricken and settles down. 

Same thing when Lauren Graham came on.  "But where is Faith Prince?"  "YP, we told you that the woman from Gilmore Girls was doing this." "Huh." 

Finally, some theater staffer came down and hissed at NYAB that people backstage could hear the kid.   At intermission, NYAB explained we were in danger of being kicked out, and I told the kid that I was going to cry if he embarrassed me again.  Not sure which piece worked, but he was virtually silent the entire second act. No more front row for us for a while, I think.

After the show, some cast members were shilling for AIDS funding, and the YP was astounded when he gave money to the woman holding the bucket.  "She was on stage!! I saw her on stage!"
Yah, and she doubtless heard him, apparently.  But she was very nice to him and seemed enthusiastic back at him.  So that was nice.

Headed back to the hotel and crashed around midnight. 

Got up in the morning and headed down to the restaurant for breakfast.  I'm not sure if I was tired and cranky or the waitstaff was, but that was a little rocky.  We looked at the menu waiting to be seated and settled on our orders -- pancakes for me, waffles for the kid, and French toast for NYAB. We sat at the table.  The waiter came, and said, "Are you having the buffet?"  "No, but ..." by which time he had huffed off to get us menus.  He returns with them and I say, "Thanks, but we already know ...." and he'd already huffed off again.  Then he came back and said, "So, no buffet?" I said, "No. I will have pancakes, and the kid will have waffles, and ... " and he interrupts me and says, "Why don't you just get the buffet? The boy eats free."  Jeezopete. 

Well, after being urged three times, I huffed up and said, "Fine! Buffet it clearly is, since that is the only way we will ever get any food here."  Grrr.  Stomped into the buffet.  Saw no pancakes, or french toast, or waffles.  NYAB took a half-pound of bacon and a banana.  The YP ate Frosted Flakes.  I found some meh scrambled eggs and bacon and had that.  I wish I had thought sooner to  just take the waiter's head off while we were trying to order and just said, "No. We do not want the buffet. But we would like a waiter who will do what we ask. Can you arrange that???"  Bleah.

The waiter wandered by to see if we wanted drinks. "No, thank you," I gritted. "Really? No coffee?"  I look him in the eye, apparently with an OMGWTF look, and said, "No! Thank! You!" 

I finished eating before the YP and couldn't stand being there waiting for the check, so I went back upstairs to finish packing.  NYAB came up later and said they only charged us for one breakfast, so apparently my displeasure was registered and responded to.  Which made me feel better. 

After breakfast, cab back to train station.  Train back to DC, sitting next to Gwen Ifill.  Cab back to office. Car back home -- with a stop off for Little League practice.  So far, the YP appears as engaged with baseball as last time, which means either he will die when he gets hit in the head with a ball or I will die of an aneurysm wishing he'd stop playing in the dirt.

But hey, we've got the Whole Week Off. (Sort of. Except for me working half-shifts at 5 a.m. and a full day in the office Tuesday.) We can work on skills and focus.  Right? Right.

Comments

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NYAB, who says, bluntly, "HE IS DEAD."

I just laughed WAY too hard over this. As usual.