brni (brni) wrote,

getting ready for a long long crawl

My last post was written in the hotel bar at the W in Times Square. We got done work early enough to make it there before last call. Well, AT last call. Well, slightly after last call. The bar was filled with beautiful people; the bartender didn't blink when I ordered Pernod & water. Was the right thing to try to deal with massive overeating.

This morning... caffeine was indicated. I dealt with some work stuff, then headed downstairs. The W Hotel has... hmmm, lemme describe the hotel.

You approach the doors and nice people run to hold them for you. You are immediately faced with many walls of running water and 3 elevators. The elevators go to the 7th floor. The doors open and there's smooth/hip music playing, soft lights, beautiful women drinking at the bar, and hidden to the left behind the bar is the nice man who'll give you the key to your room on the 39th floor. There's also a super-hip/trendy shop that's open as long as the bar is, and longer. The smooth/hip dance music is louder in the elevators, and plays in the halls. The halls are barely lit - mood-lighting in it's most minimal sense. It's very weird. Would be interesting to bring a date, but not necessarily the desired mood for a post-work evening with one's boss.

So this morning I wandered through the shop (which has everything from The Big Book of Breasts to sheer dresses that look like they are made entirely of translucent spun gold to kid's toys to handbags to The Butt Book), then asked the young woman running it for advice.

Me: So, is there anyplace around here to get coffee? That's not a Starbucks?

Her: Um, there's the diner next door. And some food trucks.

Me: Good coffee?

Her: Oh. No. There are thousands of great coffee shops in New York, but in Times Square its just tourists and Starbucks and Bad. No good can come of it.

She was wonderful. The guy at the food truck was also wonderful. What's the deal? I thought New Yorkers were supposed to be dreadfully rude. Or is that just the waiters at posh steakhouses?

Today... TelX misplaced some of the gear we'd had shipped there, but eventually all was sorted out, patch panels constructed, mounted and fibers run. Then back to 111 8th Ave to finish up there. We got done by 4:30, we made it to Penn Station, and I had a falafel sandwich which far surpassed anything at the aforementioned posh steakhouse.

The ride from NY to Philly took only a hair longer than getting from Philly to home.

It's good to be home.


criminal minds: "you're good." "you're better." poor morgan.
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