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Philly-NYC Trip, Day 5
Sep. 8th, 2022 11:59 pmTHURSDAY
I woke up about ten to four for an urgent trip to the bathroom. When I was done I returned to bed while Gary was awake and surfing the net. My alarm went off at 7:30 and I showered and dressed, and we packed bags. We went downstairs to breakfast about eight. We both had omelets today. We returned to the room around nine, packed a few final items, and chilled out. I noticed Gary was falling asleep so I set an alarm for ten, but it wasn't needed so I turned it off.
We checked out of the hotel around ten and proceeded to the subway station. When we arrived at 30th Street we found the sole working combination of elevators from the platform to the street at 31st Street, and walked the extra block east to the train station. We found seats on a pew alongside Gate 9 serving Tracks 9 and 10. I was thirsty and Gary wanted a copy of the Inquirer so I ventured across the station to the newsstand. While I was there, I found a couple of souvenir T-shirts. They only had one Rocky shirt in our size so I also picked up one with the Love sculpture.
About an hour later our train boarded on track 8. We ended up in the Quiet Car with no talking and no cell phone conversations. Our conductor, Joe, was a cute otter with a trim, dark, and curly beard. Gary was asleep pretty much as soon as Joe had scanned our ticket and I'd put it in my bag. Dude sitting immediately in front of Gary held a phone conversation in Spanish and worse yet, put it on speaker so we could hear the woman he was talking with. Eventually another passenger addressed him in Spanish and pointed out the sign directly over his seat, and he wrapped up his conversation. That settled, Gary went back to sleep and I just relaxed, journaled, surfed the net, and watched the world go by.
We arrived at Penn Station on schedule and ascended the elevator from the platform to Moynihan Train Hall. In between the two was a level I didn't recognize, labeled WEC; it turns out this is the west end of the Long Island Railroad concourse projecting from the old Penn Station under Eighth Avenue. We made a quick pit stop and grabbed lunch from Burger Joint. There was a party of seven in front of me in line, and they were served by a super cute cubby dude with a trim mustache and beard. By the time I reached the counter, cute cub had switched to cooking and a nice young lady took my order. Gary wanted a single burger with a Diet Coke, and when the lady asked me how he wanted it cooked I said "well done" as that's how he likes his steaks. She told me that would take 12 to 15 minutes. I ordered a double burger, medium, with the works; a ginger ale; and a pickle in lieu of fries. I took our drinks over to Gary and he suggested I find us seats. A nice young dude was seated at the far end of a six-seat table and agreed we should join him. After some finagling with the luggage we were seated, and I checked my phone and received the news that Queen Elizabeth had died. Gary later observed this as the continuation of the rule "Whenever Gary is on vacation, at least one newsworthy event happens." Our lunch was ready soon afterwards. We ate, and I informed Harry and Colleen respectively via text that we had safely arrived in New York.
When we were finished eating, we made the short walk from Moynihan Train Hall to our hotel. A tall and friendly young dude checked us in and handed me a couple bottles of cold water. As we entered the elevator we were joined by a hot little cub with longish hair and a thick beard. We settled into our room, and I set up my CPAP and stripped off my clothes which were soaked with sweat, leaving on only my socks. Gary swapped channels for a while as many stations were covering the royal succession, and settled on MLB Network coverage of Wegmans... er, Walgreens... no, *Washington* at St. Louis. I caught up on my journal and looked up information to plan the evening. Around quarter to four Gary decided to take a nap and I set an alarm for six and joined him. Around five a lady, presumably from Housekeeping, unlocked the door and attempted to enter, so I yelled (as I was mostly naked on top of the covers) and she left. Gary woke up and set out the do not disturb sign, but then did not go back to sleep so I woke up and turned off both the CPAP and the alarm.
About 6:30 we left for the evening. We purchased transit passes (on Metrocards) at 28th Street and rode the 1 train south to Christopher Street to pay a visit to the Stonewall Inn. The place was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall with paneled walls, high tables and a chill-out bench in the back. The bartenders (both ladies) were pleasant and friendly but they had lots of arbitrary rules and policies to enforce. Should we visit again I will make a note to run a tab and let them hold my ID, as that is the most efficient way to pay by credit card. Still, it was a nice visit regardless.
After selfies with the sign out front, we returned to the subway and rode north to 18th Street, then walked a block north to Peter McManus Cafe. The bartender was a tall, muscular, bald dude. He explained that while this is a fourth generation family business, no one on duty tonight is a family member - although he did say the owner's nephew also named Mike McManus pitches in to work there on occasion. We ordered drinks: I had the McManus Ale, which is a pleasant and very drinkable red ale when served cold, while Gary had a Magners cider which we'd had at the Irish pub in Calgary. For dinner, Gary had a pastrami sandwich with coleslaw and I had the Pop Pop's burger with a blend of meat including brisket and a side of Tater Tots. After I finished the glass of ale I had a Magners instead. Over my left shoulder, one of the regulars muttered imprecations and at one point was feeling neglected: I thought he was very close to asking who he had to fuck to get a drink. I also noticed an extremely tall (close to 7 feet) and thin dude with blond hair in a man-bun, wearing a white T-shirt with a Polo logo and knee-length pink shorts, go into the kitchen and hug the chef (who had a look on his face that screamed "Awkward!"). He hung out at our end of the bar. The place was getting busier so as soon as we finished dinner and drinks, we left, wishing the staff a good night.
As we emerged from the bar, a fire truck with lights and sirens going approached 7th Avenue and carefully crossed against the light just before it changed. We crossed 7th and went to Duane Reade on the corner to purchase drinks, snacks, and disposable razors for Gary as he wants to start over on parts of the beard. A security guard had to open the display case for the razors. We checked out and returned to the subway at 18th. A cute dude in black wearing a black yarmulke was leaning on a post; Gary later saw him without it. We emerged from the train at 28th and made our way to the hotel. Gary turned on the football game we'd been watching at the bar and we sat in bed and surfed the net, and I caught up on my journal. Around eleven I prepared for bed and we went to sleep about midnight.
I woke up about ten to four for an urgent trip to the bathroom. When I was done I returned to bed while Gary was awake and surfing the net. My alarm went off at 7:30 and I showered and dressed, and we packed bags. We went downstairs to breakfast about eight. We both had omelets today. We returned to the room around nine, packed a few final items, and chilled out. I noticed Gary was falling asleep so I set an alarm for ten, but it wasn't needed so I turned it off.
We checked out of the hotel around ten and proceeded to the subway station. When we arrived at 30th Street we found the sole working combination of elevators from the platform to the street at 31st Street, and walked the extra block east to the train station. We found seats on a pew alongside Gate 9 serving Tracks 9 and 10. I was thirsty and Gary wanted a copy of the Inquirer so I ventured across the station to the newsstand. While I was there, I found a couple of souvenir T-shirts. They only had one Rocky shirt in our size so I also picked up one with the Love sculpture.
About an hour later our train boarded on track 8. We ended up in the Quiet Car with no talking and no cell phone conversations. Our conductor, Joe, was a cute otter with a trim, dark, and curly beard. Gary was asleep pretty much as soon as Joe had scanned our ticket and I'd put it in my bag. Dude sitting immediately in front of Gary held a phone conversation in Spanish and worse yet, put it on speaker so we could hear the woman he was talking with. Eventually another passenger addressed him in Spanish and pointed out the sign directly over his seat, and he wrapped up his conversation. That settled, Gary went back to sleep and I just relaxed, journaled, surfed the net, and watched the world go by.
We arrived at Penn Station on schedule and ascended the elevator from the platform to Moynihan Train Hall. In between the two was a level I didn't recognize, labeled WEC; it turns out this is the west end of the Long Island Railroad concourse projecting from the old Penn Station under Eighth Avenue. We made a quick pit stop and grabbed lunch from Burger Joint. There was a party of seven in front of me in line, and they were served by a super cute cubby dude with a trim mustache and beard. By the time I reached the counter, cute cub had switched to cooking and a nice young lady took my order. Gary wanted a single burger with a Diet Coke, and when the lady asked me how he wanted it cooked I said "well done" as that's how he likes his steaks. She told me that would take 12 to 15 minutes. I ordered a double burger, medium, with the works; a ginger ale; and a pickle in lieu of fries. I took our drinks over to Gary and he suggested I find us seats. A nice young dude was seated at the far end of a six-seat table and agreed we should join him. After some finagling with the luggage we were seated, and I checked my phone and received the news that Queen Elizabeth had died. Gary later observed this as the continuation of the rule "Whenever Gary is on vacation, at least one newsworthy event happens." Our lunch was ready soon afterwards. We ate, and I informed Harry and Colleen respectively via text that we had safely arrived in New York.
When we were finished eating, we made the short walk from Moynihan Train Hall to our hotel. A tall and friendly young dude checked us in and handed me a couple bottles of cold water. As we entered the elevator we were joined by a hot little cub with longish hair and a thick beard. We settled into our room, and I set up my CPAP and stripped off my clothes which were soaked with sweat, leaving on only my socks. Gary swapped channels for a while as many stations were covering the royal succession, and settled on MLB Network coverage of Wegmans... er, Walgreens... no, *Washington* at St. Louis. I caught up on my journal and looked up information to plan the evening. Around quarter to four Gary decided to take a nap and I set an alarm for six and joined him. Around five a lady, presumably from Housekeeping, unlocked the door and attempted to enter, so I yelled (as I was mostly naked on top of the covers) and she left. Gary woke up and set out the do not disturb sign, but then did not go back to sleep so I woke up and turned off both the CPAP and the alarm.
About 6:30 we left for the evening. We purchased transit passes (on Metrocards) at 28th Street and rode the 1 train south to Christopher Street to pay a visit to the Stonewall Inn. The place was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall with paneled walls, high tables and a chill-out bench in the back. The bartenders (both ladies) were pleasant and friendly but they had lots of arbitrary rules and policies to enforce. Should we visit again I will make a note to run a tab and let them hold my ID, as that is the most efficient way to pay by credit card. Still, it was a nice visit regardless.
After selfies with the sign out front, we returned to the subway and rode north to 18th Street, then walked a block north to Peter McManus Cafe. The bartender was a tall, muscular, bald dude. He explained that while this is a fourth generation family business, no one on duty tonight is a family member - although he did say the owner's nephew also named Mike McManus pitches in to work there on occasion. We ordered drinks: I had the McManus Ale, which is a pleasant and very drinkable red ale when served cold, while Gary had a Magners cider which we'd had at the Irish pub in Calgary. For dinner, Gary had a pastrami sandwich with coleslaw and I had the Pop Pop's burger with a blend of meat including brisket and a side of Tater Tots. After I finished the glass of ale I had a Magners instead. Over my left shoulder, one of the regulars muttered imprecations and at one point was feeling neglected: I thought he was very close to asking who he had to fuck to get a drink. I also noticed an extremely tall (close to 7 feet) and thin dude with blond hair in a man-bun, wearing a white T-shirt with a Polo logo and knee-length pink shorts, go into the kitchen and hug the chef (who had a look on his face that screamed "Awkward!"). He hung out at our end of the bar. The place was getting busier so as soon as we finished dinner and drinks, we left, wishing the staff a good night.
As we emerged from the bar, a fire truck with lights and sirens going approached 7th Avenue and carefully crossed against the light just before it changed. We crossed 7th and went to Duane Reade on the corner to purchase drinks, snacks, and disposable razors for Gary as he wants to start over on parts of the beard. A security guard had to open the display case for the razors. We checked out and returned to the subway at 18th. A cute dude in black wearing a black yarmulke was leaning on a post; Gary later saw him without it. We emerged from the train at 28th and made our way to the hotel. Gary turned on the football game we'd been watching at the bar and we sat in bed and surfed the net, and I caught up on my journal. Around eleven I prepared for bed and we went to sleep about midnight.