New York

So most people assume that I hate New York because of the sports rivalries. Well, I don't particularly like baseball or football, and I don't really consider the Rangers a huge rival, and we all know that hockey is what matters most to me. So, no I don't hate New York because of the sports. I hate New York because the majority of people there are assholes. Now, I do not believe that the citizens of New York are assholes. In fact, I am pretty fond of most everyone I personally know from New York. I think the tourists are the assholes. I think that people feel like the can act like jerks in the city because people assume that is how New York is. I got to spend the night in New York on Tuesday, and I remembered why I hated it so much.

After we got to Lincoln Center, via a cab that dropped us in a totally different space, we waited for doors to open to the greatest event of our lives. *Insert babbling, uncontrollable emotion here* After we saw J.K. we decided to get a bite to eat. We spot a place close to the theater that looked promising. It is a pub, and we figured we couldn't go wrong.

We each ordered a glass of wine in the hopes that the serving size would match the cost. ($11 for a glass of wine whose bottle sells for $12.97 a bottle. I found this out later in the week.) It did. As we sipped the first wonderful sips of our special treat we felt invincible! Melissa ordered a French Onion soup, and I decided after hers had arrived that I would also have one. After that, our night turned sour.

 The people behind us had a ridiculous amount of Harry Potter merchandise, and were discussing how they could sell their signed copies of the book. It was disgusting, and I was completely outraged by the lack of respect they had for my idol.

After we had ordered dinner, (which was not very good at all), the waitress had decided that we weren't going to tip well and had decided to ignore us. Melissa ordered another glass of wine which 15 minutes later she decided to cancel because it still hadn't arrived. A manager brought it over, and I complained to her about the lack of service. She took the wine off the bill, but didn't apologize for the wait, or the service. After ten more minutes I finally asked a busboy if he could get our check for us. We got out check and left quickly after, in the hopes that we could find a place to get dessert.

After a cab ride through Times Square, we were back at Penn Station to find somewhere closer that we could get a tasty treat. After searching through the whole train station and having to attempt to save Melissa's life from a crazy guy who wanted to steal her we finally found a place that was open! (For a city that doesn't sleep, there aren't a lot of places open at midnight.) We went to a diner that was open 24 hours. Awesome! Diners near train stations are always fantastic!

I decided that I was done with New York and wanted to feel at home. So I ordered a slice of apple pie and a hot chocolate. Melissa wanted cheesecake, but they were out so she got a milkshake and Nutella crepes! My Apple pie was cold, and tasted like coconut. It was weird. My Hot chocolate had oil drops in it, so I decided I wouldn't drink anymore of it. Melissa's shake had a funny after taste, and she didn't drink it.

The best part about the meal were Melissa's crepes, though. Apparently, if you are a 24 hour diner in New York City, you put croutons in your crepes for added texture. We decided that we were not going to finish out desserts and we would just go back and wait for our train.

It was a very interesting evening, but Melissa got it right. She said that seeing J.K. was so beyond phenomenal that it was truly fitting that our night afterwards would be strewn with mini disasters.