What a weekend. I had been promising Laura I would get up to New York to visit, and I’m really glad that I had ended up delaying the trip for so long. The wheather turned out to be asoultely fabulous. Like everything, I decided last minute how I was going to get to New York. I looked at greyhound and found $40 tickets round trip from Philadelphia to New York, and I saw that Amtrack had the same trip fro about $96. If you know me, you can only assume that I bought neither of these tickets. Too much money. I remembered hearing about the Chinatown, Philly to Chinatown, NYC bus. I checked out the website and found ridiculously priced $20 round trip tickets. Yeeep. That’s more like it, more my style.

I bought the tickets at 2:00 PM on Friday. Shortly after, all of the power in the medical office building had been lost… a blackout. Not being “the hopital”, per se, the MOB was not backed up by generators. Therefore, we lost power for a good 45 minutes. Perfect! It would have allowed me to go home early (since all my work was on the computer anyway). Unfortunately, I had a meeting at 3:00 with the T1 networking guys (cousin Kevin Flounders), so I couldn’t sneek away. The power came back on, we had the meeting, and I ducked out right afterwards at about 4:10. I sped home, grabbed some clothes and threw them into a duffle bag (Laura even caught the fact that I used a legitimate bag – not a trash bag; wow!). I could only get tickets for 7:00, and you had to arrive 30 minutes beforehand. Got there, sat my ass on the bus. Prayed to god someone that stunk didn’t sit next to me. Got lucky.

The lucky passenger was a 35 year old lawyer from China. The first 40 minutes of the ride, I passed out and took a cat nap. When I woke, I started dislogue with this guy. He runs a website about Chinatown, NYC. He said to me that Americans are very discriminatory towards Asian Americans, but that I wasn’t. That I was willing to talk to him in the same light. He was glad to be able to practice his English, as he didn’t get to speak it much living in Chinatown, NYC. He was a very nice man, and he took pleasure in complimenting me on my “beaudiful brawn hair” and my “very blue” eyes that “attract the females”. Haha. Being used to getting hit on by straight men, I moved the conversation along. We talked a lot about his views of America (he hated it), about life in China (he praised it), and eventually got into Chinese business law (which is when I stopped listening too much). While discussing life in China, he spoke in a positive light about how the Chinese were able to control overpopulation. I kinda laughed it off and mentioned that killing off kids until you get one you want to keep isn’t the right way to do it. He either didn’t understand, or he chose to play ignorant. While some sort of population control is necessary for a country that’s approaching 1.5 billion people or thereabout, there’s got to be a better way than killing children until they get the right sex. Whatever the case, my bringing that up, and the fact that I was one of 10, led to a less energetic discussion on his fault. Luckily, there were only about 10 minutes before we arrived in Chinatown, NYC.

Suprisingly the trip took only an hour and fifty-five minutes. At this time on a Friday night, I thought it would have been a lot longer. I called Laura, and she too was shocked at the quickeness of the trip. I tried to hail a cab, but the cab system is different to that which exists in Philly. As in, Philly’s cabs don’t really have any system. I knew a lit light meant that the cab was available, but I didn’t know which light to look for. Eventually, after calling Laura, I figured it out, and I hitched a ride to 16th and 1st. (Chinatown to Chinatown ended up also beaing closer and a cheaper taxi fare to Laura’s place).

That night, Laura and I met up with Camilla (a Yorker) and some of her friends – Anthony the Irish looking Italian and Daniella, who reminded me a bit of Beth. As we tried to get into the bar, I realize that I left my stupid ID at home. How dumb can you get!? Luckily the dude at the door was chill and just told me to walk in. After a night of Original Sin cider (at 6 bucks a pop – yay New York), Laura and I snuck off to get Pizza at Pomadoro Pizzeria (across the street). On first sight, the pizza looked old, crusty, and congealed… But we were drunk. And drunk people like pizza, in any state.

I was amazed. It was awesome pizza. I definetely enjoyed every bit of it. We were going to go back into the bar, but decided to call it a night. Took a cab home, and bam! Fell right asleep.

We woke up at 11:00-ish, got ready to go out and, again, decided last minute what to do. Well, not exactly. We decided ONE thing we wanted to do. The rest of the day fell into place around this one event – again, it was just that kind of weekend. “No soup for you!” Yeeeahhh – soup nazi, here we come! We took a nice walk to the Soup Nazi of Seinfeld fame. I had no idea what to expect. We turn the corner and I see the sign for “Soup Kitchen Internatonal,” sure enough with a picture of the Soup Nazi right in the middle of the sign (yeah, the guy from the show is the real deal – I never knew that). The store front is about a 4 foot counter opened up onto the street; it was about 10 feet deep. There were 3 guys crammed in there. It reminded me a lot of Pepper’s, sans the good looking staff. And, sure enough, there are signs wasnring you about keeping the flow of the line. Order. Move to the left. Order. Move to the left. No frills. No discussion.

Order. Move to the left.
Order. Move to the left.
No frills. No discussion.

Nothing. We were really, really hungry, so we did not want to test the Soup Nazi. We order. “Chicken Chili. Large. ” We moved left. We paid $12.00 for a “Large.” And at first, I was skeptical that it wouldn’t be worth it. We got, with the soup, great bread, grapes and strawberries, a kiwi, and chocolate (I got one, Laura got gipped). After being suprisingly and insatiately stuffed on the soup, we determined it was well worth the $12.00. We had only hoped that someone tried to pull an Elaine while we were there, but no. Next time, when we aren’t so hugry, we will go and try it out. Just to see what happened.

We ate the soup in Central Park as we watched a group of Break Dancers. They were pretty good, and ranged in ages from probably 28 to 12. I liked their “scmoozing” lines, such as “If you like the show, you know, take out a dollar or two from your wallet… and give us the rest.” and, while introducing their “crew” (in which they called the newest and youngest dancer “A-Rod” like the rookie Yankee), they quipped, holding up a big red bucket, “And this is our manager Phillup…. as in Phillup the Bucket.” It was enjoyable, and I chipped in two gold dollars in the bucket at the end of the show. I’d love to see more kids their age doing something creative and skilled to earn some money on an early Saturday morning. Good entertainment for a great lunch.

Afterwards, we went to see the new (and first) New York Mall in the Time Warner building. It was glitzy, and I wouldn’t have expected anythgin else from it’s location rigth across from Central Park. Other than that, there was nothing really special about it. We started walking somewhere but never got there. Again, the day all started at Soup Nazi and was randomly generated from there. As we were walking, we ran across “the good looking girl” from Mask and Wig, an all male performing group from Penn that likes to cross dress… a lot. This kid was the only one that looked half decent in a dress (is that a compliment?). Anyway, we walked by him TWICE in the same day… in NEW YORK… in different SECTIONS of New York. He was wearing a bright orange sweatshirt , so he was easily recognizable. This lead Laura and I to wonder about just how many people we pass more than once in a day or week that we never take note of… Have you ever thought about that? It’s an interesting idea, really. For all you know you could pass by the same person three times a week, and not even notice (especially in a city the size of New York). It makes me want to make sure I look around a bit more (yeah yeah, I know I daze off a lot and engulf myself in a great self-game of People Watching quite often).

Anyway, as we were walking, we passed a swarm of people. Laura informed that they were waiting in a long line to buy $50.00 tickets to a Broadway show. We kept walking, and started to talk abotu Boradway. I had never been to a show, and Laura is a huge theater buff. Add them up, and it was obvious we were going to go to a show. So we got into line. Now, it was 2:10, and the line doesn’t open up until 3:00. And there were at least 150 people already waiting. The logical thing to do?

Buy from a scalper. There were two guys that looked really shady and were selliong tickets marked for $31.00 for $50.00 to the people in front of us for a show that sounded too boring for me. I said we would pass and see who else comes by the line. Then an obviously gay man came by selling 4 tickets to Little Shop of Horrors.

I have never met a mean gay man, and I had never met a gay scalper. We put two and two together and got 2 tickets marked for $106.00 to the Little Shop of Horrors

I have never met a mean gay man, and I had never met a gay scalper. We put two and two together and got 2 tickets marked for $106.00 to the Little Shop of Horrors. We bought them for $75 a pop, $25 more that what we would have paid if we waited in line. But, we got excellent seats: 3rd row, center. There’s no way we would have got these seats from the $50.00 line. AND… we didn’t lose an afternoon waiting in line! It was perfect. (On a side note, we were a tiny bit worried when we realized that the tickets had some guy’s name on it that wasn’t the scalper’s name – but luckily we got in okay and no one was in our seat or tried to tell us we were in theirs).

From there, we took the subway to Ground Zero. It’s very weird to see a huge hole in the middle of Manhatten. That’s really how we found it – looking for the eerie hole in the middle of a forest of really tall buildings. It looked only like a construction site from above – and it wasn’t moving to me at all. But we walked down the stairs to where the subway and the trains merged at the WTC. Where there was supposed to be a building, there was nothing. It opene dup into a big hole. This was cold. It was chilling. We looked out and saw the buildings acorss the way and see buildings that were facing the World Trade Center stripped on the adjacent face. The buildings were empty, the sides dilapidated, and the steel frames exposed. This was more chilling, yet not the most touching part. As we walked up the stairs back out onto the street, we heard the sounds of Acapella faintly increasing. At the top of the steps, people were gathering around a high school group singing a ong about Freedom (I can’t remember which song exactly, because I was too busy looking at all of the crying faces). It was truly touching. We don’t know if it was a traveling high school group or if it was a New York high school group, but irregardless, it hit everyone. People were taking pictures on their camera-phones, holding them above everyone else to get a good shot. The audience was tearing up, as were the Acapella singers.

We left right after the song ended; it was really touching. We walked from here up to Soho, where we walked the streets looking at the art and talking about the ones we liked. I think this is were I will get some art when I finally finish my room (or start my room). I wish that Philly had a place like this. I feel like I would like to hang out here some more. I loved the feel of this area. Somewhat quaint brick buildings with gorgeous stone roads. It was a great area. From Soho, we walked down to Little Italy. It’s a lot littler than I thought it would be. We bought Gelato, which was very good, and I got mom 4 cannolis. This place was apparently the oldest somethign or other. I threw out the bag, so I don’t know the name of it. But I recommend it. The cannolis were ridiculously good. From here, we walked back to Laura’s place, just being aware of what was going on in the city around us.

After we got back, we took a breather. Sat our asses down from the long walk. And then got ready to go to “Little Soip of Horrors.” We got back at about 5:00. And then left at 5:30. We took the cab to Broadway, driving by famous places like Radio City Music Hall etc. I wanted to try one of the famous delis. We narrowed them down to Stage and Carnegie, because they were both a blovk from the show. We ended up going to Carnegie Deli. Okay, these sandwiches were insane. It’t like 5 inches of meat on what then appears to be two tiny pieces of bread. But man-oh-man, was it good. Two sandwiches and water totaled $30 plus tip. Whoa – I wouldn’t survive in New York. But it was well worth it.

We walked to the Virginia Theatre to see Little Shop of Horrors. It was an awesome show. It set a high bar for any subsequent Broadway show I may see. The singing was great, the set was absolutely amazing, and the puppet work was insanely good. The puppets were created by the Jim Henson company. They definetely breathed life into the plant. And the puppeteer was able to very closely lip sync to the actor. So aweosme. I was a little annoyed with the ending of the show, where all of the actor’s were the heads of 4 plants. That was annoying to me, but they totally redeemed themselves, when the plant came to life and tried to eat the audience. I was amazed and the puppet work on that. It was really, really neat and pulled together the night so perfectly.

After the show, we met up with Anne at a bar on NYU’s campus (remember I didn’t have my ID). After a night of Cider Jack cider (yuummmm) and nachos, and great convo with Anne and Laura about a bit of everything, we called it an early night at about 1:00. We walked home, and I stayed up a bit watching Sports Center (wow – St. Joe’s only won by 2 – must have been a scary game!). Such a great day. All agreed.

I woke up again on my own at 9:00; showered; and watched cartoons until Laura got up. We went and got breakfast (NY bagels and egg and cheese – quality). I ate in the taxi on the way to Chinatown. The bus was a lot less full on the way home. It was only about 20 people, max. And they played a really bad Chinese movie with Mongolian subtitles. So I slept. For $5.00 an hour, I can put up with that. Such a great weekend. I had a blast, and even got to like New York a little bit. (But my love for Philly will not waiver).

If you are still reading this, then I am amazed. It was more for my record keeping that anything else! I recommend any of the events or places I went to in New York, as I clearly loved them all.

I had been working on my Senior Design Project diligently for many weeks, and I was nearing the end of it. Mr. Zabel had been sick for a few days, and I put my Senior Design on hold. I remember on this particular day, waking up to a bunch of voicemails of people wanting to do meals for the Zabels. I spent time calling these people back and organizing the information on the Zabel site. Judy was at work at Lankenau Hospital. Mary Jo called me, what I thought was randomly, to ask me if I wanted to go in with her to keep the family warm as this was the day of the surgery. They had decided to perform an emergency surgery because his fever had surpassed 104 degrees. Even still, I remembered feeling slightly optimistic that things would be okay. Mary Jo stopped by after work to pick me up. Judy had just come home from work right before Mary Jo had gotten there. I remembered feeling a little bit awkward going to sit with the Zabels for what could have been a very stressful 8 hour operation. I don’t know why MaryJo asked me if I wanted to go, but I am very glad that she did… all nervousness aside. I hurriedly asked Judy to come with me and she was eager to go… thankfully. The car ride over to University of PA was quiet, with not much talk among us besides small talk and concerns about Mr. Z. When we finally got there, we navigated our way to the elevator, climbed in, pushed the floor, and began the ascent. No one talked on the ride up. It could have seemed a omen, only none of us were thinking negative thoughts.

The doors to the elevator opened, and the entire Zabel family was there, bawling. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place. I looked down in Mrs. Zabel’s hands and saw a bag that said “Personal Items.” It still hadn’t hit.

Mary Jo ran over and consoled Mrs. Zabel. Mike came over and hugged me. He whispered in my ear, “Thank you Brian, You have been a pillar of strength for our family.” I don’t know if it was just me not wanting to admit what I suspected, that Mr. Zabel has not made it through the operation, or whether I was just shocked to all hell. Mrs. Zabel came over and hugged me. I couldn’t cry. Mostly because I still hadn’t let the worst idea creep into my head. I saw Brighid come from behind a column in the hospital. She was bawling. That made my ears water. I wanted nothing more than to hug them and cry with them. Even though I still didnt know if he had, indeed, died. I pulled Judy aside and asked her. She had no idea either. I grabbed Mary Jo by the arm and pulled her far away from the Zabels.

“Mary Jo, did he die?” Judy and I hushed in unison.
“He didn’t make it.” She squeaked out between tears.

I still couldn’t cry. I wanted to, but the shock was too overwhleming.

We filed into the elevator, everyone silent, save for the sniffles. Mike cracked a joke, which I don’t know how it built up, “Oh man, Brian. You guys didnt know? You were probably thinking, ‘Damn, when did Mike get so affectionate?’”

Humor.

It has always, and hopefully will always, get the Zabels through anything…