January 13, 2005
I found my room and took a long, hot shower, letting the stress of the morning's events wash away. I unpacked my clothes and smiled at myself in the mirror - I was prepared for the first evening in which I would meet the brilliance of New York.I exited the elevator and strolled down the red carpeted hallway toward the main entrance of the hotel lobby, pausing to say hello to the grinning security guard on my left. His name was Vincent. He stood tall, with arms folded behind his back and appeared to have a glint of laughter shining within his eyes. I thought I'd never meet a friendlier face in New York as his.
He looked me up and down as I passed and exclaimed, "Ohhhh wee! Don't you look as though you're ready to take on the world!"
"I certainly hope so! At least this corner of the world," I replied as I stealthily rounded the corner.
There must have been a shift change for the desk clerks and thus I left a message to a new set of staff standing behind the counter. I requested that they might inform me if anyone should call and that I could be found in the lounge. They took down my name and I continued on through the swinging double doors of the Pine Restaurant and Lounge. The room was dimly lit, with television sets broadcasting a soccer game, and not so very crowded. I took a seat at the opposite side of the bar from the double doors and set down my money along with my pack of Marlboro Lights. I noted that it was only 4:30 p.m., but resigned myself to an early cocktail hour seeing as I was on 'vacation,' and ordered my usual Captain and Coke, no fruit and glass of water. When the bartender brought my drink, I asked if I might be able to smoke here.
The entire bar became silent and heads slowly turned to face me. The bartender simply shook his head 'no' and flashed a quirky smile at me which I would not understand the meaning of until a few minutes later. I took a sip or two of my drink and with exiguous interest began watching the soccer game when I heard a low, soft chuckle to my left. I peered over my shoulder to face a young gentleman with a great, wide grin that wrinkled both his eyes and nose. We were seperated by one bar stool upon which he leaned to inquire as to whether or not I had just asked the bartender if I could smoke. I replied that I had, indeed.
"You don't know about the no smoking law passed in 2003?"
"Oh my God!" I replied, raising my hands to my mouth "I completely forgot about that!"
My face turned red as I fell under the compunction of the question I had asked, which provoked more laughter from the gentleman. This deliverer of bad news was a 32 year old pilot for U.S. Air named Moses. He was absolutely eager with interest in all of my travels and I was soon absorbed in describing to him where I was from and where I have been. I was rather surprised at how he continuously marvled over my traveling experiences as though he had never been anywhere special himself.
"Well, of course I've been to many exotic places, but I usually only get to see the world from hotels. It's only a one night stay and I'm afraid to go out into this big city all by myself."
"All by yourself? I'm a female doing this all by myself, for crying out loud!"
"That's why I'm amazed! You're crazy, girl!"
"Okay, great. So now I have a renewed sense of trepidation. Thanks."
We continued to laugh and talk and I had already removed the empty bar stool between us when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face the right of the bar and there was a woman sitting beside me. She wore a pair of high, HIGH heeled brown boots, black stockings and an extremely short skirt. Her blouse was black and she had a red scarf tied around her neck which complimented the set of pearls that hung below it. There was something about her face that did not seem quite right, but I did not have a full chance to study these features as her low, deep voice interrupted.
"Honey, you have the boldest, most contagious laughter I have ever heard, if you don't mind me saying."
"Why, thank you!"
"My name's Rachel by the way."
I wanted to answer immediately, but the shock of her voice was simply astounding as I put it together. Rachel was a boy. A man dressed as a woman. He (or she) looked at me, waiting for a reply.
"Oh! My name's Laura. Nice to meet you. And this is Moses."
They exchanged greetings and I found this to be the perfect opportunity for me to face Moses with the wild shock of bewilderment that had formed in an 'O' shape about my mouth. He, meaning Moses, did the best he could to hold back a burst of laughter at my overwhelmed expression and promptly ordered a round of shots for the three of us. And what a trio we were. I felt the glances of the other patrons as the bar began to fill with pilots, flight attendants and regular travelers. We were having ourselves the time of our lives that Thursday night.
It wasn't long before I ordered my next Captain and Coke in a paper cup so that I might go outside for a cigarette. It turns out that we all had the same nasty habit in mind and so we headed outside, into the cool air, and huddled into a corner to enjoy our cigarettes. Rachel stood about my height, 6' tall, with her heels. She told that she was a 42 year old Chemistry teacher at the nearby High School, stopping en route to her regular stomping grounds to say hello to a few of her friends. Moses was about 5'4" and complimented us both upon our attractive height by standing on the bench next to us. We spent the next hour or so chatting away between the bar and the great outdoors before Rachel inquired as to whether or not I was 'interested' in her. Perhaps, she suggested, I was interested in a little something with Moses as well. I calmy replied that I was not at all 'interested,' as she put it, but that I was simply enjoying both her and Moses' company very much. Luckily, she did not persist.
My next move was to run upstairs to gather my coat, cell phone and thoughts. I returned and had just ordered my next drink when the phone rang and I was officially greeted by John in Brooklyn. I took the call outside and excitedly informed him that I had just met the nicest people in the hotel lounge, including my very first transvestite. I was quite excited by this fact and rather worried what sort of impression that might make upon John, but he did not sound dissauded. Surprised, but not dissuaded. We made plans to get together and he inquired as to my exact location in Queens. I turned toward the stadium across the road and carefully read the name.
"I'm directly across the street from 'Shee-ah' Stadium."
"What?!"
I removed the phone from my ear and slowly brought it back.
"Ummm, 'Shee-ah' Stadium? You've heard of it, right?"
"Of course, I've heard of it! It's pronounced 'Shay,' Laura. Haven't you heard of it?!"
"Ohhhh! Well, oops!"
So apparently, for all of you non-New Yorky folk out there, there is NO smoking in New York establishments and Shea Stadium is pronounced without the damned 'E.' Arm yourself with a bit more intelligence than myself as they seem to really get into baseball over there.
John escorted me, over the phone, to Vincent and the desk clerks who kindly directed my way to the nearest subway which was merely a few blocks up and around the corner from the hotel. They put my fears of being 'stolen' at ease and assured me that I could make it to Grand Central Station all by myself. I simply had to take the number 7 train at 111th street toward Manhattan to Grand Central Station and meet John by the four sided clock. John said something about purchasing a Metro Card, but since I had absolutely no idea what in the world that was, I simply decided I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
I rushed back into the lounge, with John still on the phone, where I paid for my last drink and began to say my good byes to Moses and Rachel. Moses had taken down my e-mail address earlier and Rachel offered to give me a ride to the station since she was also heading in that direction. I agreed that that would be a fine idea until I heard the sudden impact of John's voice over my cell phone.
"You're going to get a ride for the transvestite that you just met, that you don't know and who has basically offered herself to you?!"
"Well, kinda, yeah."
"Oh my God..."
"Hey, I can take her if anything goes down. Besides, I don't know you and we're still hooking up!"
"Oh my God..."
"I'll be fine."
"I take no responsibility for your fate while you are in his/her presence."
And that was that. Moses joined us in the lobby as Rachel made her way to the bathroom. I carefully noted that she had swung the door of the Women's Restroom and thus began a quick banter session between Moses and myself regarding her choice of, shall we say, dress. We pondered over the way that she might utilize the fascilities (this need not be delved into right now) and quickly turned the subject once she exited. We said our good byes and, as Moses made his way back to his room, we headed out the side door with well wishes from the desk clerks and Vincent, the security guard.
I hopped into the passenger side of Rachel's silver Nissan Altima and proceeded to remove a large object from underneath my shoes. It was a very large, very long, very high heeled black boot. I handed it to Rachel. She began pointing out the 'features' of the shiney black boot and how one actually zipped up the side as opposed to lacing up the fake laces in the back. I nodded and smiled and gripped my cell phone in my hand, ready to make a move if necessary. Luckily, there was no need for alarm. She dropped me off at the 111th street subway entrance and wished me luck, stating that I should probably attempt to take a taxi home from Brooklyn instead of taking the 7 train back to Queens
"Even I wouldn't take the 7 train late at night, honey. Besides, your friend should have a couch that you can crash on."
"Yes, SIR. Er... Sorry. Thanks!"
She laughed and I ran up the blue painted steps with absolute enthusiasm. I opened the blue door, stared at the automated Metro Card machines for a good minute and turned to the gentleman inside the booth. I purchased the seven day Metro Card, as I believe John had suggested, and made my way toward the entrance with the revolving metal gate. I stood there for a moment and turned back to the gentleman in the booth.
"Sir, how do I work this thing?"
"You just slide the card right through that strip on the right of the machine."
"Oh! Thank you so much!"
He laughed. A lot.
I carefully slid the card, making sure it would be read, pushed my way through the gate and turned around to take another look at the gentleman in the booth. He gave me a great big thumbs up and wide grin which I readily returned before making my way through another set of blue doors.
I stood on the platform, humming to myself, next to a couple lost in each other's embrace, waiting for the next train to stop. I cannot deny that a sense of fear had washed over me, but greater was the rush of adrenaline that poured throughout my veins during this first new grand adventure. I wanted to remember it all, but it went by so quickly and I still could not believe that I was doing it all alone. I followed the couple onto the nearly vacant subway train and took a seat on the orange and yellow bench. I curled my fingers under the seat and held on tight as the train jerked forward, all the while picturing the subway scene in Ghost. At each stop, my heart swelled as I desperately searched for a sign stating my arrival to Grand Central Station. I passed the well lit city and although I wanted to stare out into the night through those wide and dirty, finger printed windows, I held the solemn face that occupied the visage of all of the other passenegers. I wanted to fit it and so I donned my 'game face.'
By the time I actually arrived, I was nearly exhausted. I scrambled out of the train and simply followed the massive flow of the crowd before me. As we walked up the stairs, a large man carrying a heavy bag looked at me and I took the opportunity to inquire as to where I might find the 'meeting clock.' He said he did not know and asked me if I would happen to know where the Northwest exit was located. I shrugged my shoulders and we plodded on together, equally lost, though I was no longer afraid to ask every passerby where I might find this infamous clock. The man with the heavy bag found his Northwest exit and I had a better idea as to where I might find this clock.
I entered the main concourse of Grand Central Station, the great hall, and looked up. My jaw dropped and I spun around and around. I walked back and forth, bending my head towards that magnificant and beautiful astrological mural for a good five minutes; completely consumed in it's granduer. I squinted at the gold leaf stars, twirled within the cascade of travelers and deeply inhaled as the echoing voices bounced off the walls. I nearly forgot my purpose until a woman bumped into my directionless daze. My focus centered on the 'meeting clock' and I began to tremble slightly under the realization that I had only ever encountered this scenery in movies.
I quickly dialed John and inquired as to his exact location as I made my way around the clock. I knew that I would find him, but the purpose of the call was to ease my own anxiety and hopefully spot the individual with a phone attatched to his ear. I listened to his voice and laughed as he inquired if I were the girl in the white hat. No white hat, I replied. Suddenly, I saw him, but kept on with the conversation as though I had not. He was wearing a long, black trench coat and carried a messenger bag over his shoulder. I quickly attempted to connect the voice with the face, but this only made me laugh out loud with nervous enthusiasm and I'm rather sure that gave me away. We lowered our phones and there I was; standing in Grand Central Station, NY, before the man I had been bantering with online for months and meeting for the first time..
To be continued...