taking my boyfriend to Penn Station, and kissing one of the most
romantic goodbye kisses ever in a train station--that should've been
followed by me running after the departing train and waving, but
because of terrorism, non-ticket holders are not allowed on the
platform anymore, I got my own train ticket to Long Beach, Long Island.
The line for a ticket was long--about 20 minutes, and the people in
front of me--all, also heading points east, were gaggles of golfers and
bunches of the brawny beach set. I had never seen so many tan people
together at once. It made me feel...pale and alien. or perhaps like a
pale alien.
Although the line was long, the beach was long, and so was the island,
the train ride was relatively short: 45 minutes, and I was hugging my
friend, Jessica. We had been friends for 17 years now. After marching
up and down the main drag looking for an open Thai, then open Italian
restaurant, we landed at the "Global Cafe" or some such. Deeelish!
Jessica had an 8,000 calorie steak salad, and I had Japanese Pankar and
barbecue fries (fish n' chips).Afterward, for a surprise, she took me
for a mani-pedi and 10 minute backrub, and I said, "Jessica, you took
me out for my birthday and made me a year younger." Actually, it was
more like five years younger. (Toes "garnet" and fingers "Fed Up" which
matches my skin).
We went to the beach, and actually got into the water--the waves were
rough and I did some body surfing, but not before some Baywatch action.
The lifeguard supervisor's truck came, and the life guard frantically
blew his whistle. Everyone out of the water! Some people thought it
might be a shark. The lifeguard said they already had an emergency, but
no one was rescued. I thought it might be a crowd control exercise.
Guinea pig again!
After a few glasses of wine on the penthouse rooftop, complete with
gargoyles, I headed back to Manhattan in a run. I had to make my
friend's play reading of "Kryptonite Hearts." It was a costumed reading
about people who get a kinky high about pretending to be superheroes
(and the villains who like to be beaten by them.) It's too bad one of
my friends couldn't make it, but it was a packed house, anyway. After
that, dinner with the stars of the play, and back at my house by 12:30.
Strange ferry action on the way home: a group of 30 or so were singing
victory songs in Spanish or maybe Portuguese. Some NY'ers got
really angry, and started chanting NOO YAHK! NOO YAHK! at them, like a
bunch of assholes.
Sunday, restless, and feeling the need to drink and have a laugh, I went to surprise my friend, Steve Bunche
at his job in Brooklyn. Surprise to me, though, was that his hours
changed, so I went for a walk. I think I became dehydrated with
low-glucose, because it became a very long walk:
Once I found some decent Spanish food at a restaurant my 2nd
husband and I were regulars at, I decided that cool air was better than
hot, that being in the dark movie theater was just the escape I needed
from the missing my boyfriend, and now my ex-... So I got on the train,
and went to the 20-plex nearest the ferry terminal:
By the time I got there--3 pm, nothing was playing but ClerksII--and gee I didn't know if I'd get it without having seen
Clerks I-- and so I hung out at the World Financial Center air
conditioning, with the well-paid tourist set and read a book on massage
so I can heal my boyfriends arms (and my shoulders) and ended up having
to run to the ferry to meet my kid.
That's it. And I still have my cold. And poison ivy.
