grandma got mad skating skillz

Want to play chicken?

Yesterday, Laurel and I woke up with the desire to venture to the park. However, the moment we stepped outside and looked up, we realized that at any point, the sky was going to break open. So we walked faster.

We finally reached the park and after scoring some tasty Mint Iced Tea sweetened with Maple Syrup, we stretched our blanket out on the ground. Laurel went for a run, and I settled in to listening to my iPod and writing/doodling. After listening to an entire album (The Juno Soundtrack), I glanced up. There was a little boy playing with a Nerf rocket launcher and he was shooting at two women walking by, and he was giggling ferociously. His balding, slightly heavy father was trying desperately to talk to said women, while juggling.

I laughed to myself and whipped out my magazine. It started to mist, but I figured if there was a heavy downpour, I would just meet Laurel under a tree or something. Then I realized something: Laurel wasn't back yet. She told me she was only going to run  a short run, and I've lived with her long enough to know that means 15-30 minutes tops. It had been at least an hour. I checked my phone and decided that if she was not back in another hour, I had to find a police officer. I put up all of my reading material and (probably looking either creepy or crazy), proceeded to scour the four corners surrounding my blanket. I did so for about 30-40 minutes, when she finally showed up, safe. She commented she got lost, and saw a side of the park she had never seen before and that we should go. Problem was, she hadn't the faintest idea where it was.

We decided to pack up camp and head back. We went to the new Beri Outlet to see if we wanted to purchase anything. After leaving empty handed, we decided to continue walking down Classon, so that we could see if Choice Atlantic was open, and that I could get some Iced Coffee and a snack. When we were walking, I saw a sign that said "Live Chickens." I immediately commented that if I looked in this open warehouse, I was going to be sick. But of course, curiosity took over, and I turned my head. There was a glass booth to the right of the building with a sign that said "CASH ONLY" and then to the left, there they were. Probably about 15 stacks of chicken coops, all ready for the taking. 

Choice Atlantic was, of course, closed, so I decided to venture into Michael Allen Desserts. Nice choice. We then got ready for the evening. We were going to Tiny's Giant Sandwich Shop and out for a while before a 9:40 showing of Moon. The food at Tiny's, yet again, was superb, but I was still starving. I had a Black and White cupcake from Sugar Sweet Sunshine and later ate a rice krispie treat. I'm always hungry.

Welcome to the Johnson's was (for once) not crowded, so we scored a couch seat and sat down. There was a man at the bar who Laurel and I decided was a daredevil. He had a neck brace and hand brace on. We were making comments about how to pick him up ("How much mobility do you get with that thing?" "Can I help you with physical therapy?") when the dude took off his neck brace and put it around his thigh. Immediately disinterested.

We then ventured to St. Jerome's, probably my favorite bar in the LES - at least when it's early. It's always really dark, and there is no real sign, but there is always something awesome playing on the projector, usually a rock documentary, or if they are playing a movie (they were playing "Ice Age" and then "Road House" one time), the music over it is damn good too. Either way, the bartender was a dude we met about 7 months ago...I think his name is Jeremy. He didn't remember us, of course. We were with a few people, and well, he has no real reason to. 

Finally we got to our final destination: Seeing Moon at Landmark Sunshine. I was extremely excited to see this movie. I had attempted the night before, but it was sold out. However, this time, we had a our tickets in hand. The nice attendant ripped my ticket, and I said "MOON!" and he said "You are beautiful." He had sight problems, and I wish I was kidding...but he did. While everyone waited in line to secure seats, I ventured up the the bathroom. There were two pint sized older ladies in front of me, talking about the movie they had just seen. A woman in front of them turned around and started commenting, and they proceeded to break down the entire movie. I still have no idea what movie they were talking about, but apparently it was "thought provoking", "beautiful" and "awe insipiring." I probably won't see it.

Moon is a pretty good sci-fi movie. The director, David Bowie's son, introduced it. I saw him standing outside the doors of the theatre before I went in, and he was talking about how nervous he was and thanking someone for having him. I was like "Thank you for having me to! It was my pleasure to pay $13. I'm nervous I'm broke." Luckily,  I said none of these things out loud, as I hadn't the slightest clue who he was and assumed he was just another theater goer like me.

Either way, if you have the desire to see Moon, follow through with it. It's a good movie, and Sam Rockwell is great in it. I don't like it when people give me premises of movies, so I'm just going to link the trailer. However, as a warning, the trailer gives a lot away. So, let me give you three seconds of a premise. A man has a 3-year contract to work by himself on the Moon. Stuff happens. 

After the movie, we ventured to Local 138. It's a good bar if you just want to relax and don't want to be hit on. That's exactly how I always feel. However, someone we were with wanted to have a little bit more fun, so we went to Arlene's Grocery. After dancing our way through the crowd, we spotted seats in the back. We sat down, and a dude came over to get his guitar. He made a comment that it was his date for the evening. I laughed. He then leaned over and told me that I "had the look." I couldn't quite make out everything he was saying, but at one point he shoved his ass in my face. I guess...he wanted me to smack it? Weird. Either way, he then told me I had the look a few more times, and started to walk away. I yelled, "Have fun with your girlfriend!" and he ran back to tell me he doesn't have one. I pointed to the guitar on his back. He said "Oh yeah, her. If I had a girlfriend she wouldn't be as pretty as you," and he bit his fingers and walked away. For the life of me, I still cannot figure out if he was making fun of me. He was a cute guy, albeit extremely weird.

Leaving Laurel and everyone to whatever they were going to do for the night, I checked out. After desperately seeking a cab, I decided I would just walk to the C. However, on the way, I spotted an open cab so I hopped in. The entire way home ($14.20), the cabbie told me about every experience he or his friends had with seeing people get hit by cars. Two girls were run over on Houston and 1st Ave. Two other girls on 46th St and 7th Ave were hit, one was fine, the other was propelled against a wall. An older couples limbs were ripped apart on 28th St and 9th Ave (which prompted a separate conversation about a gay club where there is oil wrestling and biker dudes. The guy seemed to know a LOT about this bar). During the trip, he turned left on red, and we almost got hit by a line of taxis, he slowed down in the middle of the street to show me a car that was totaled, and sped up through a yellow light yelling to me that it was illegal. When I got out of the car, he motioned for me to walk in front of his cab although the light for him was green. I smiled politely and walked behind him. I'm just glad he didn't put it in reverse.