New York - Part 2

So after a thorough grilling at the hands of the Department of Homeland Security ("There are FOUR LIGHTS!") we were free to enter the US of A.

Also, the snack bar was open again. Win.

Since the train ride is an ungodly 11 hours, the conductor was kind enough to make a pit stop in Albany.

For those that don't know, Albany is like a ghost town, filled with people.  Now hear me out.  We had 45 minutes to wander around and I walked 20 minutes in one direction and found... nothing.

Now don't get me wrong, Albany is a wonderful place.  To refuel.

Once it was clear my butt had permanently molded to the seat, we arrived in the "Big Apple" -- sorry, but the REAL Big Apple has PIE.  Next, I met my friend at Penn Station.

At least, that was the plan.

Penn Station is friggin' HUGE. And decidedly unlike Albany, it is bustling with people. In fact, it is difficult to cross the mezzanine without getting to third base at least four times.  If you're thinking of living in New York, this is something you'd better get used to.

We finally found each other, somehow, then set out immediately to find some food.

Since I am something of a connoisseur, and my stomach was practically eating itself, we stopped at the first place we found: Chipotle's.

My friends, the rumours are true.

Now that my stomach was no longer figuratively -- but in fact, literally -- eating itself, we decided to walk the 80 blocks to the apartment we were staying at.

One thing you notice when walking Manhattan is that it is a deceptively huge mo'-fuggin' island. It's like the island from Lost -- they just keep cramming more and more stuff into it. And every other person is probably packing.

Another thing one notices is the steady decline in socioeconomic status as you move away from Times Square.

At 2am we arrived -- in East Harlem.

New York - Part 1

Oh my gawd is he posting again?!

Yes, yes he is. 

Since you've all been very patient lately, and I woke up at 6am this morning, I decided it was past time for some more sweet, delicious pie.  And then blogging.

So last month I was making plans to visit my friend from Baltimore.  Yeah, I have a Baltimore friend.  Jealous?

But since Baltimore is, well, Baltimore we decided to meet each other half way (read: not nearly half way) in New York City!!

After a few weeks of excited planning the day had finally arrived.  More accurately, 4am on the morning of had finally arrived.  Basically, if you're going to wake up at 4am, it's more economical just to not sleep at all.  At least that was my thinking at the time.

So drunk on, let's say, fatigue, I zig-zagged my way to the bus station, stopping at the 24/7 365 bagel shop* to get some authentic Montreal-style bagels. 

*Seriously, they never close.  Heart.

This is important, as not only are Montreal bagels the unparalleled best in existence, there are people in the world who have not yet tasted their dough-y glory.  We call them savages.

Equally important, there are those (like my friend) who insist that New York bagels are, in fact, the best.  Likewise, there are those (like myself) who call her a dirty liar.

Here's a small taste of our debate:

"Seriously, New York bagels are like amazing!"

"BLASPHEMER!!  YOU WILL BE FIRST AGAINST THE WALL."

At 8am I arrived in Montreal to find that it was still snowing.  Seriously, it's not allowed to snow after my birthday, that's the rule! 

Side note:  
Hey ancestors, you know they had Florida right?  It was like, right there!  (Two of my brothers live in Orlando and after I come in from shoveling snow, there they are on skype saying it's "so cold" they didn't want to "jump in the pool today".  Yeah well, no christmas presents.)

So I get on the train in Montreal, ready for the ELEVEN HOUR JOURNEY to New York City.  Only, there's a hitch.  I happen to get on the only train in existence that does not have wifi.  Seriously guys, I'm pretty sure the godam FREEDOM TRAIN had wifi.

Luckily, the guy sitting next to me turned out to be pretty damn cool.  Cool enough to talk to for eleven hours.  He also agreed that Montreal bagels are the best, and thus, a beautiful friendship was born.

As we crossed the border, the Department of Homeland Security came on board and made the rounds.  Basically, their game is a variation on the classic good-cop bad-cop routine.  Except there is no good cop.

Seriously, these guys are crazy.  The DHS is like that kid in elementary school whose dad drank too much.  They get all full metal jacket on yo' ass if you try to go to the bathroom.  And don't even THINK about bringing that banana into the States.  You might smuggle in some kind of Canadian pathogen.  Because, you know, we clearly grew it in Ontario.

After giving me a thorough grilling they turned to my new friend.  Who is brown.  And apparently from Algeria.  Le sigh.

This was going to take a while.