Sunday (May 27) started out by visiting the Washington Square Outdoor Art Exhibit down in the Village. We took the subway down and then walked all the way up University Place to to 14th. There was so much cool stuff, but, we weren't really shopping. Just wanderin' and lookin'. We got down there early, around 11am, so it wasn't really crowded. Sunday morning in the Village meanders along at a pretty leisurely pace.
Next time I go to New York, I definitely want to spend more time in Greenwich Village. The vibe is just so good.
Next, we went up to MoMA. This was definitely one of the highlights of the trip.
Everyone's seen Van Gogh's The Starry Night a million times, but I could have stood there forever just staring at this picture.
"Certainly they will not ask the correct tone of the mountains, but they will say: In the Name of God, the mountains were blue, were they?" - Vincent Van Gogh.
Love it.
After MoMA, we went to Connolly's Pub across the street. Just a little Irish place. We ate at the bar in the basement. I had a half and half or two. It was pretty dead in there, but it was cool, baseball on the TV, and a bartender who was Irish (or at least faked it really well). Funny thing is, later that day and Monday, we noticed about five others. So, not so unique, but it was good anyway.
For dinner, we met Becky's Cousin Tim and his girlfriend Lindsay for dinner at Daniela's Trattoria on 8th Ave in the Theater District. I had never really hung out with Tim, but we had a great time! Tim and Lindsay are both actors, and I learned a ton about the theater. We just had a really good time. The food at Daniela's was outstanding. If I remember correctly, I had the Pasta Arrabiata. Angry pasta. Afterwards we stopped at a little bar and had a couple of beers.
Becky and I got back to the hotel, and, even though it had been a long day, I decided to explore. I went downstairs to see if anything was going on at the Marriott Bar, the Bull and Bear, or Whiskey Blue. All lame. It was Sunday after all.
I caught a cab and went to a bar that a friend of a friend told me about. Milano's on Houston Street. Lower East Side. Or East Village. One of the two. The cabbie was very proud to point out Julia Roberts' house in Gramercy Park on the way. Not sure why, but he was.
The friend's description of the place was:
"It's sort of an alcoholics' hangout, so only go there if you're in the mood to talk to some drunk guy sitting next to you....I have nicknamed it "The World's Skinniest Bar" b/c it's only wide enough for the bar, bar stool, and one person to squeeze by."
Well, this of course intrigued the hell out of me, so I thought I'd check it out.
I can't imagine a more apt description than the above. Sitting at the bar, there is, literally, a few feet behind you to the wall.
There was some crazy chick named Kendra that the bartender kept yelling at to leave people alone. I'm not sure what her deal was. She was young. Fairly decent looking. I mean nothing seriously wrong with her. She didn't seem to be bothering anyone, but the bartender had a different opinion...
I ended up sitting next to a guy most of the night. He drank cider. I drank Jack. They had a great jukebox. One of those internet deals where you can pretty much download any song. We traded songs for a couple of hours. Rock. Country. Grateful Dead. Jim Croce. Def Leppard. Garth Brooks. Hank. Willie. Styx. We ended up best friends, singing the night away.
But, what really got the crowd going...Journey. Any and all Journey. Women danced. Men put their arms around each other and sang at the top of their lungs. What can I say. People Love Journey.
Piece of pizza on the way back to the hotel and, thank god, black out drapes the next morning.
After wandering around Times Square the next day looking for somewhere to eat that didn't charge $20 for a sandwich, we caught an early flight home.
Great trip, good times.
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