Yesterday involved a few of those things, in addition to: almost flashing hundreds of strangers, stumbling upon legit celebrities, a crazy homeless encounter over homestyle chicken, and one of the best indie comedies I've seen in a long time about a high school kid who thinks he's the reincarnation of Russian communist Leon Trotsky.
And it was only a Tuesday!
Let me back track. In the vain attempt to make 2010: The Year of Doing Shit (title stolen from a failed attempt in 2009), I really have been making more of an effort to do the activities that always sound fun and New Yorky but my laziness has thus far pre-empted. Okay I'm sort of drawing a blank on some other examples of things I've done lately. But I know I have been doing stuff.
Realizing I wouldn't have ample time to come home and get ready before our big night out (not that big, but anything's more of an event than our usual Tuesday routine of watching GG with his roommate Frank wherein gym clothes are a-okay), I took time in the morning to shower, get all gussied up and put on a dress that could function as an outfit later that night.
The dress I chose was a long-sleeved periwinkle number with an elastic waistband (could I have described that anymore to sound like something Rose would wear on Golden Girls?) that is sort of a tight-fitting silky material - I swear it's cute.
Here's where the day got off to an interesting start. Walking to the subway wearing my belted trench coat that hit about an inch above the dress, I realized that the dress was slowly riding its way up my thighs. Like reverse ghetto jean sagging. Oh shit. By the time I got to the train station, it had surpassed my ass.
OMG what do I do?? At this point, I don't think you can tell I'm basically not wearing any bottoms, but I can't be certain. I sashayed my way down the platform toward the very end, positioned myself on the other side of a pole from everyone else and attempted to wiggle the dress down with my free hand. Until I realized the subway conductor was staring directly at me from the Brooklyn-bound side of the station.
FML.
This moment was like that dream where you show up for class naked or something. Except it was a real life Tuesday morning commute. Thankfully as the train was approaching I managed to snag a corner of the dress and maneuvered it back down to safety. Otherwise things could have been real interesting for whoever was walking behind me up the stairs. Later when I told J about this, err, wardrobe malfunction, he commented that I was clearly traumatized from it. Apparently I still am.
The rest of the day passed with no excitement. I left work, met J and we headed to the theater in Chelsea. Per usual, I had not specifically mapped out our destination, so after we exited the subway (fully clothed, wahoo!), we looked left, saw a theater advertising for Tribeca, and made our way to it. Except it was the School of Visual Arts theater hosting a premiere for a movie we were not scheduled to see. Detour was worth it though, because out front were tons o' paparazzi yelling toward two women being interviewed by E's Ben Lyons (not as cute in person, kind of short, disappointing).
What do you know, it's Jessica Alba and Kate Hudson (her dress made it impossible to get a cleavage shot to deduce my own opinion on the boob job in question). Just a little evening celeb spotting to make up for my traumatizing morning.
From there, we walked the few blocks to our actual theater, and I made the horrible selection of Boston Market as our nearby quick dining option.
Here's a handy tip, do not ever go to a chain restaurant in the city (unless it's Red Lobster). First, there are a bajillion better places, and two, the quality is always sub-par and the service sucks. Guaranteed horrible experience.
Waiting in line behind a few other people, all of a sudden a crazy homeless man ran in, cut the line, and started beating on the glass case of food with his dirty homeless hands. At first the workers tried to ignore him, but then it became apparent to everyone that he had a severe speech impediment, had money and was trying to order.
The entire situation was actually really heartbreaking. To not be able to communicate when you're trying so hard must be incredibly frustrating. But more importantly, it was sad to see someone who is not receiving the medical help he needed. System failure.
Back to my drama. So we should have just left, except that they had already taken our order and the food was sitting in front of us, taunting us out of reach behind the glass shield. So close, yet so far. The homeless scene was made worse by the fact that the woman at the front of the line ordered - no joke - three turkeys. Because they were like $1 each. And since Boston Market obviously recruits talent straight out of Harvard Business School, the woman helping her waited for them to prepare her entire meal before ringing her up and letting the other customers pay.
Needless to say there was about to be a riot up in that joint, way less fun than the celeb-fueled-excitement riot we had just seen on the red carpet.
Finally we got our food, shoveled it in our mouths and headed to the movie. The Trotsky was one of the smartest, funniest movies I've seen in a long time. Definitely all the makings of a cult classic, totally the kind of movie I would have seen 100 times in high school. The writer/director Jacob Tierney was at the show along with some of the cast. If you remember, I love events like that. And, pat on my own back, I didn't giggle like a tiny child in front of anyone quasi-famous.
So, considering all the random activities strewn together over the span of my day, I think you'd have to agree it was quite an exciting lil' Tuesday.
Take that, 2010. Tons of activities checked off the agenda and it's not even May yet.
fun story :D i think i'll go check out the trotsky myself now.
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