All posts in category life experiences

Thirty Something Land

A funny thing happened on the way to thirty-something land, turning 29. In lands far from where Spring meets LaFayette, being single & twenty-nine has always equated spinsterhood. That delicate condition where prince charming had not yet arrived in a white horse with a rent controlled walk up on the Upper East Side.

However, living in Manhattan, where being single is revered, life was changing too. Out were the Carrie Bradshaw(s) & Samantha Jones(s) of the world. In were the new faces of thirty-something New York. From high above Uptown to the Lower East Side, couples & baby carriages were taking over the once gritty and dangerous sidewalks. Was the city turning into a sleepy suburb without the track homes?

I pondered this question. While at the social event of the season, a spring outdoor party in TriBeCa, a new fashion accessory dominated the sea of Prada purses, the wedding ring. Nearly everyone was gorgeous, successful and yes, very married. Oh no, did I miss something (in mid-twenties land), while drinking too much wine & figuring out how to stuff a whole week’s groceries in one paper bag? While I still pondering the deep philosophical and very first world question, Mr. Ideal arrived.

Certainly, he was straight & married, but mirrored JFK Jr. perfectly. He simply charmed me, while I wondered if he had a gay brother. If I could wake up to such a handsome man, surely married life couldn’t be that bad.

Then as we smiled at each other, it hit me. I would have to share a bed, checking account & that secret stash of jellybeans I keep hidden. Could I deal with farting in bed? Even worse, having to watch endless hours of football?

I walked out of the event thinking, “I really am the gay New York version of Bridget Jones.”  Like Bridget, I was officially in spinsterhood mode and enjoyed eating too much. Unlike Bridget, I didn’t have two men fighting over me toward the end of the movie (or in my case, the Thursday night get together).

As I walked home feeling single and ready to turn thirty, I looked around. “Oh my this is my life!” I am a New Yorker, working in my dream field & have funny and very interesting people around me. Then I thought, who needs a man to be happy?

While Tribeca faded into Chinatown, something unexpected happen. I was almost hit by a bike while crossing a (surprise) bike lane. As I was about to tell the guy ” Hey you fucking almost killed me,” I looked up. There he was blue eyed and smiling. My frown turned into a smile & I walked away. Only in New York, would, you almost get hit by a bicycle with the possibility of meeting Mr. Right at the same time.

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by alasnyc on May 19, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, gay, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, Uncategorized, walking

Posted by alasnyc on May 19, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/05/19/thirtysomethingland/

Type A Gay

Weezer played on my iPod. My shoes were perfectly polished and I wore one of my favorite outfits. It was one of those magical Saturday mornings in New York. Saturdays are my absolute favorite day of the week. I typically brunch it up, take long walks around the East Village & breathe in the intense yet very creative New York air.

On one of those magical days, the streets were soaked from a previous rain shower. I lingered around the sidewalks, which were slightly empty. I stepped in front of a record shop with a window display filled with obscure CDs and DVDs. As I walked away from the record shop (still feelings distracted), I noticed a big bus driving uptown. From the corner of my eye, I then noticed a puddle.

I did quick math in my head. Bus + puddle = A soaked Anthony and even worse, a very damaged iPhone. The bus drove closer and I didn’t have any time to step away from the edge of the street. The bus went over the puddle and the unthinkable happened. I looked at my outfit and iPhone, “wow I didn’t end up drenched.”

I went on my merry way. As I walked toward the Lower East Side, the breezy weather turned into a humid afternoon. While walking in Chinatown, the humidity levels increased, while the tenement buildings grew closer together. At that moment, I hoped to be Carrie Bradshaw in the opening credits of Sex & the city, getting splashed by a bus. Alas, nobody splashed me.

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by alasnyc on May 12, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, walking

Posted by alasnyc on May 12, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/type-a-gay/

Quack Says Duck

New York weather is radical like Sylvia Plath, Jackson Pollack & Joan Crawford at a dinner party. What could be the most beautiful day; eventually ends becoming a humidity induced rain shower, followed by a rainbow, but more rain. On one of those quintessentially humid (& seemingly rainy) New York afternoons, I waited for Tony outside the Plaza hotel.

The forecast called for rain showers. In my own grand tradition, I left my umbrella on the subway. As I waited for Tony to arrive from Queens, I was praying to the weather gods. Please weather Gods don’t rain on my parade. Naturally if Barbara Streisand landed from the heavens and started singing “Don’t rain on my parade,” I’d be ok with that. Tony showed up with a surprise.

“Here, it’s going to be raining.” He handed me an umbrella. Unlike the generic umbrella bought at the local bodega, this umbrella was bursting with character.

The handle had the face of a duck. I smiled and proclaimed, “Oh my it’s a ducky umbrella.” Though, the rain didn’t appear that day, we had a wonderful day at the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). While admiring all the avant-garde gems at the New York legend, I was most excited about the umbrella. While an hour previously, I had fear torrential rain with my new cute umbrella, I longed for it.

Ducky (as I lovingly named my umbrella) & I wandered the streets of Manhattan together. He kept semi-dry and refreshed in the most intense of storms. One day, my life changed.

I took Ducky to my favorite deli in Midtown. It’s where I go before work to enjoy a bagel & coffee. The forecast called for severe thunderstorms, but the morning was bursting with sunshine. I took Ducky out anyways. Hours after leaving the deli, I forgot Ducky. “Oh no, my quack is missing.”

However, the weather was still sunny and gorgeous, till I left the office. As I got on the subway to meet a friend for coffee, it looked like rain was on its way. I thought, Ducky was gone for good, no need to check the deli. As I exited the 6 train at 23rd street, the skies over Manhattan were dark and haunting. While, I sat with Jenny over coffee, a major thunderstorm hit. No umbrella in sight.

While walking down a rain soaked Broadway, I stepped into a Duane Reade & bought a new umbrella. “$11 bucks for an umbrella?” that’s not right, I told the cashier. She didn’t really care & I bought a very boring umbrella to keep dry.

As I walked toward the West Village for supper, the umbrella wouldn’t open all the way, leaving me partially soaked. Walking past the perfectly adorned brownstone residences, I proclaimed “Ducky, I miss you.”

As time went on, I returned to my deli. There in a shelf close to the cashier was Ducky. He was safe & sound. I almost kissed his beak, until I wondered where that beak had been.

From then on, Ducky & I enjoyed our rainy days together. We loved walking from the East Village to the West Village with rain pouring & fashion by David Bowie playing on the iPod. What can I say? We’re always going to be New York boys.

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by alasnyc on May 12, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Art, East Village, life experiences, New York City, Uncategorized, walking, West Village

Posted by alasnyc on May 12, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/quack-says-duck/

Cherry Blossom Boy

“Oy, I am schvitzing!” said I, while walking home on a random Tuesday night. New York magically transformed itself from Antarctica sans the penguins into a sunny paradise with a Margarita or two (or three).

The heat penetrated through my buttoned up shirt. Oddly enough, there was a charm to the change in temperature. The gritty city was beaming like a ballerina on stage at Lincoln Center.

However, as the journey to my apartment commenced, it hit me. “Oh no, winter is over.” My cardigans and sweaters will go back in the closet (unlike their owner) and hibernate till late fall. Nothing quite compared to strolling the West Village & East Village in my fall/winter wardrobe. Tears flowed down my cynical cheeks.

I finally arrived in my apartment and stared out the window. The sky was simply cinematic and devoid of cotton balls. At that moment, I realized it was time to embrace change. Rather than turning on my window unit, I walked out of my apartment building and enjoyed the early evening.

I took my nightly crosstown walk to the West Village. Although the sidewalks had awoken from winter’s slumber, I still missed the cold dearly.  Then I ventured into Washington Square Park madness, which captured my attention.

There were Skateboarders, street musicians & banjos vs. drums competing for the undying attention of my eardrum. Sword fights with glow sticks turned the park into a rave meets Star Wars film set.

I sat on a park bench and celebrated the dose of massive stimuli. If heat brought about all this fun, then I would fancy more spring weather. As I wandered more, the city truly morphed itself into a giant block party.

The next day, I woke up to more enchanting blue skies. I excitedly stepped out in a light sweater, only to run back upstairs and put a pea coat on. Spring only came for a day and went back into hibernation. Winter winds would dominate the weather trends in New York for weeks to come.

A few weeks later, spring arrived again and I embraced the comeback. Cherry blossoms colored the sidewalk with impressionist inspiration. Cafe tables spilled into the sidewalks invoking a bustling cafe culture from the East Village to Hell’s Kitchen & beyond. I went back to weekend morning walks along the Hudson.

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by alasnyc on April 28, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, East Village, fashion, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, Uncategorized, walking

Posted by alasnyc on April 28, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/04/28/cherry-blossom-boy/

Everything Is Pink

In the West Village, the grit and grime is simply splendid. The brownstones, designer shops, diners, hidden jazz clubs, indie book shops and cobble stone streets scream old New York character. In the land of the Marc Jacobs with a soy latte, I’ve always wanted to secretly loose the cool facade and break into a smile.

While walking where Bank meets Bleecker street, my smile grew into something more. While trying to keep a straight face and listening to the world’s most depressing hipster oriented song, I thought about a very neurotic person. It made me giggle.

As I reached West 4th Street, the giggle turned into medium sized laughter. I walked past the too cool and his equally chic accessory. My giggle eventually turned into a massive attack of laughter.

I stood in the middle of the West Village, trying to control a beast of laughter. I was enjoying my laugh with such great gusto, that appearing like a fucking weirdo didn’t matter much.

In a town known for it’s intensity, humor is better than a trip to the pub. However, my adventures in the land of laughter would persist.

Krista and I had most delightful lunch at quaint European cafe in Tribeca. Afterwards, we couldn’t stop giggling. I wasn’t sure whether it was the Tiramisu or the Billy Crystal DVD collection we spotted at the discount store.

Everything was filled to the brim with humor. When we made our way toward Chelsea & the M14 (the crosstown bus), we discovered a whole comedy show on wheels. There’s always been something about the New York City bus, which attracts more characters than a Woody Allen film.

While we tried to control our laughter, the most awkward moment arose. “There ain’t no place to put my walker,” said the old lady with her “Joan Rivers-que accent. ” Excuse me miss you could have my seat,” replied a most friendly 40 something lady. ” I can’t sit in that seat, my walker will block the entrance.” I looked at Krista. We were both unsure whether to laugh or hold it in.

” Hey you, I want your seat,” the old lady approached an equally senior citizen. ” I can’t get up, I’ve got a bad hip and look at all these shopping bags I got,” said the baffled old lady. ” I don’t have a bad hip, so there,” answered our grandma with the walker. Yes, at that moment, Krista and I lost it and laughter persisted. Somehow sassy grandma didn’t notice.

We ate more sugar that day and laughed more. Eventually, we took another trip on the M14. A lady sat across from us with her precious tulip and a stern exterior. She stared at us and soon her tough coconut exterior was being cracked open. It was wonderful to have made the most jaded of bus riders smile, even for a moment.

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by alasnyc on April 5, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, Uncategorized, walking, West Village

Posted by alasnyc on April 5, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/04/05/everythingispink/

Alphabet Soup

In super market aisles across America-land, lives a can full of words. Alphabet soup is the dream that after school specials are made of. Not only, is it a tomato broth meet pasta marriage, but a very educational way to eat and learn.

The most thrilling part about the literary soup is find interesting letters to play with. Growing up it was always a delight to spell out words with my soup. Sometimes, I would find amazing acronyms and adjectives to play with. Other times, I thoroughly enjoyed discovering unexpected nouns.

Living in New York is similar to diving into a sea of alphabet soup. There’s always an unexpected and very joyous adventure.  The sweet sounds of piano playing in the heart of Washington Square Park, serenading the jaded senses.

Strolling into a Lower East Side art gallery for free booze, only to realize my buddies just happened to be there. Then there are always the quirkier moments, i.e . naked painted people as an art exhibit all to themselves.

However, sometimes we become someone’s inspiration. Audria and I had a day of brunching and working on creative projects. After reaching our creative goals and doing a little happy dance, we decided to reward ourselves with a walk to Tompskins Square Park in Alphabet City.

While enjoying the lovely blue skies, which over naked trees & gentrified graffiti, we found Zen on a bench. While we talked, a very bohemian photographer approached Audria. ” Excuse me, could I photograph your shoes?” he asked. Audria wore a pair of distinctive leopard print ballet slippers. She gladly obliged.

Soon, we were asked both asked to be photographed. He took candid pictures of us conversing on a park bench. ” I hope I don’t come off as creepy,” he asked, looking a bit embarrassed. Being an extrovert, I told him ” no, go ahead take more pictures.” So he did. Soon Audria, her shoes and I went from muse to friends with the photographer.

We had so much fun, talking, that an older gentleman sitting next us, joined in on the conversation. He gave us a whole history of the neighborhood from which buildings were burnt down thirty years to freighting stories of a decaying New York.

As our conversation became endless, it hit me. From sitting in a park bench, we made two new fascinating friends. It all happened in a very unexpected and New York kind of way.

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by alasnyc on March 28, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, East Village, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, Uncategorized, walking

Posted by alasnyc on March 28, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/03/28/alphabet-soup/

Pop Music State Of Mind

My evening walks are legendary. I freely walk the streets of New York. With a comfortable pair of sneakers and an iPod full of tunes, I have many amazing and whimsical moments while strolling the pavements.

There’s the jazz band serenading pedestrians in the Village. Fur, real and faux dominating the narrow & gritty sidewalks of the East Village. The smell of hot dogs, street meat and chestnuts dominate the corporate landscape of Union Square. While on the Upper West Side, older intellectual types stroll stylishly, seeking the next great opera performance at Lincoln Center.

Then there are the walks out of necessity. Trying to save a couple bucks a month, I decided to walk from my apartment in the east 20′s to work in Midtown(I’ve always taken the subway to the office). Everything was quite charming.

There were old senior citizens off for their morning bagel & coffee. School kids rushing from the perfectly manicured apartment blocks of Gramercy Park. New Yorkers rushing in and out of the subway, making their way into office buildings in the shadow of Grand Central Station. However, I loved the feeling of quickly arriving at work, rather than taking a leisurely stroll.

Therefore, I buckled down & bought a metro card. My first day not walking reminded that “wow, the subway is really a sardine can.” However, nothing could prepare me for what happened next. After grabbing the L train and transferring to the 4 express train at Union Square, The unthinkable happened. “Oh no, I am on a downtown train. I am supposed to go uptown to Grand Central.”

I was secretly hoping that the doors would open and could escape quickly. However, as the train pulled away, I huffed and puffed. I was nervous about running late. After all, I’ve never been tardy for anything (ok, not including Spanish class one time in high school). My breathing intensified. I got a couple of stares, as I appeared to be giving birth to a proper meltdown.

In order to keep myself in happy, pretend “I am strolling the West Village mood,” I used my secret relaxation tool. Pop music has always put a smile on my face. Hence, to make my life campier than a Doris Day movie, I actually played Taylor Swift on my iPod.

I don’t know any of her songs. There’s one song of hers I adore. So, I drifted away into a world of poppy land, where stress only occurs after breaking up with an insanely hot guy. Slowly, I felt less intense.

After a couple unexpected stops on the express train to Brooklyn Bridge, I finally arrived at the subway station. I quickly changed trains and made my way back to Union Square, where my journey began. Not only did I make it to work on time, I re-discovered the beauty of cheesy music. My new life motto, rock out to cheesy pop tunes, it’ll take the stress always.

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by alasnyc on March 23, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, life experiences, Music, New York City, offbeat, pop music, Uncategorized, walking

Posted by alasnyc on March 23, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/03/23/pop-music-state-of-mind/

Scruffy

Late winter in the East Village brought out more love birds, than there are tulips blooming on a spring day. There were the scruffy tattooed bearded men rushing home for a cuddle and probably more. While somewhere on Second Avenue, the perfectly manicured theatre major couple picked out cupcakes at the independent coffee house. Then, there are the slew of older men oozing creativity and romance.

As for me, I was on a date too, with the city that is. While I had lunch with a friend at one of the many pop music playing, colorful gay restaurants in Chelsea, I made a major announcement. ” I just want to stay single,” my restaurant buddy looked at me in shock.

“I am not ready for a relationship, besides I live in the city, it’s a singleton’s paradise,” I uttered those words. With one swift bite of my burger, I finished dinner and walked into a utopia of men.

When it comes to the male population, New York really stimulates the senses. Every minute of every day, a new possible husband walks by. While, walking toward my apartment, I had to pee. There was a relief half way between my apartment & Fourteenth Street. The scruffy boy’s gay bar is where Sylvia Plath reading, Talking Heads listening, independent film loving gay boys with plenty of facial hair, a couple tattoos and hip fashion sense hang out.

Since, I had to pee and love beer, it was the perfect layover on the way to my modest apartment. As I ordered the first of my beers, I laid eyes on a scruffy world wonder.

He was also drinking beer and looking quite marvelous under the dim light. It had been a while, since I hit on a guy at the bar. Even though, I said I wanted to stay single, something said go out and mingle.

So I walked over to him and made conversation. Mr. Scruffy bear was visiting from Boston and as the conversation progressed, the unthinkable happened.

Yes, the conversation hit the dreaded wall of silence. It’s that awkward moment, when you realize “Shit this conversation isn’t going anywhere.” I drank my beer at high speeds. However, he decided to go back to his hotel room and I needed to go to the grocery store.  Then it hit me; I talked to him and won’t have regrets later.

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by alasnyc on March 21, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in East Village, gay, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, walking

Posted by alasnyc on March 21, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/03/21/scruffy/

Wigstock

On the corner of Christopher & Seventh walk some of the world’s most glamorous women. Many just happen to be men. Long legs, high heels, full make up and a whole lot of sass characterize these ladies in disguise.

Crosstown in the East Village, I started my apartment hunt. In the icy Manhattan winter, I looked for my ideal new apartment in the city. The first walk-up, I looked at was in the heart of the vintage shop/coffee shop/bar/mom n’ pop’s restaurant/bodega fantasy world, I adore.

Walking to the corner of Seventh & First Avenue, I noticed the door was covered in graffiti. My eyes lit up, this would make my parents and fell in love with the urban decay. After being buzzed in, I met my potential roommate, a drag queen.

She wasn’t filled with makeup and high fashion hair, but wore little make and just a ponytail. I was fascinated. The apartment was covered in wigs.  Blonde, red, black with red and more flamboyant than though wigs lined the apartment like a proper window display at Bloomingdale’s.  She actually designed all the wigs I saw and even taught pole-dancing classes.

I stood fascinated. It was a world I knew little about even as a gay man. The world of drag was one I only read about it at books and experienced occasionally at gay karaoke.

After trying to charm me with the apartment’s disheveled interior, I saw my bedroom. It was a closet without the closet, but it screamed of the bohemian years gone by. I wanted the apartment, but decided to take my friend the event planner for a look the next day.

The next day, I took my event planner friend to observe the apartment. I secretly hoped he would love it, since I wanted to live in the neighborhood with a quirky character.

As predicted, he saw plenty of red flags. However, his jadedness went out the window when he laid eyes on the wig collection. He asked the drag queen “ could I try them?” She gladly obliged.

My not so queen-y friend was mesmerized. Not only did he try out the wigs, he made a beautiful blonde.  As I looked at him in every hue possible, I then realized “wow wigs could really change your personality.  After walking out of the apartment, we both decided I needed to look elsewhere.

Later that day, I officially decided not to take the apartment, he texted me in disappointment. “Why did you let that apartment go?” he asked. I replied. “Remember, all the red flags?” He eventually forgave me for not letting him play with more wigs.

After letting go of that apartment, the hunt for perfect pad continued. With meeting many characters and looking everywhere from Alphabet City to Harlem, I found the perfect apartment. Located in the east 20’s, my new apartment in Peter Cooper Village/Stuyvesant Town was most ideal. I moved in and lived happily ever after in Manhattan with an elevator and view of the FDR (East Side highway).

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by alasnyc on March 10, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in daydreaming, gay, life experiences, New York City, offbeat, walking

Posted by alasnyc on March 10, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/03/10/wigstock/

Head Above The Clouds

A new art craze hit the streets of New York. In a city, which inspired artists from Jean-Michel Basquiat to Keith Harring, this art was more shocking than anything produced in Andy Warhol’s factory.

Crucifixes made from ashes adorned  (on lent/Ash Wednesday) the foreheads of everyone from businessmen to bicycle messengers. ” Wow, is religion the new craze hitting the cynical sidewalks?” I thought to myself. Being less than spiritual, I skipped church and took part in one very significant ritual, the art of brunching.

I met my Downtown gal pals at our favorite brunch spot on St. Marks Place & Second. It’s the kind of place where scruffy meets disheveled in the most high fashion kind of way. At the brunch table, we talked about only in New York woes and triumphs. As our down home yet chic plate came by, my gal pals talked about escaping the icy cold Manhattan winter. The conversation went something like this:

Downtown gal pal: We’re going to Punta Cana.

Me: Oh that’s the most ideal snowbird destination.

Downtown gal pal: Wait, I can’t go this Friday.

Me: Why not?

Downtown gal pal: Yeah, I am meeting with my rabbi

Me: rabbi?

Downtown gal pal: Oh I didn’t tell you I am going Jewish.

Me: Really?

Downtown gal pal: It’s been going well, best part I am going to be a Goldberg. My ex is letting me use his last name.

Me: Where are you converting?

Downtown gal pal: the premiere, most well connected synagogue in the city, right on Fifth Avenue.

Me: Wow, I am a gentile, but jealous, now you can celebrate Chanukah.

Downtown gal pal: I know, so looking forward to Chabad dinners.

I have friends who have converted to Buddhism and enjoy the chanting process. While other friends have had a more cynical view and only go to church for weddings & funerals.

After pondering deep important questions of the day like “should I have a black and white cookie for dessert? I received an email from my friend Melinda. In the email she stated “visit my church’s New York branch, it’s gay affirming.” I replied, “Sure, thanks.” Church was a foreign concept for me, even though I grew up in the Catholic school system. As an adult, I only stepped foot in churches, while playing tourist in Europe.

With that said, I took a chance and agreed to go. Two subway trains later, I was on the Upper West Side. In the deep grey and traffic of 96th and Broadway, I walked out of the station feeling hesitant. Going to church (even a gay friendly) felt very out of my comfort zone. The church was housed in an old & majestic building.

Like New York, it was filled with cultural diversity.  Old intellectual hippies, dapper men with blazers and glasses, families, gay couples, singletons and faces representing every ethnicity characterized the congregation. As the choir sang, everyone followed. I stood silent. There was something corny about singing along to church songs.

Soon, I experienced culture shock. People were talking to me saying hello and asking me if I was new to the congregation. After an hour church service, I not only had a great hour of people watching, but met new friends.  I walked out feeling less cynical, mostly due to the sense of community felt during the service. I didn’t have a religious, life changing moment. However, I experienced something new and felt a little worldlier because of it.

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by alasnyc on March 9, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in life experiences, New York City, offbeat, Uncategorized

Posted by alasnyc on March 9, 2013

http://coffeencardigans.wordpress.com/2013/03/09/headabovethecloud/

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