Letter From NYC revisited: September 2, 2003

Editor’s note:

In 2002, I moved to New York City seeking adventure and a change of scenery. I would periodically send update letters to friends back in Texas, and eventually posted them on my website. A couple decades removed, I thought it would be interesting to revisit those experiences and the ways my perspective has changed in the intervening years. This is an installment in a fairly long series. Enjoy.

9-2-03, 8:45 AM -

69 degrees. Hallelujah. The sticky, stinky, steamy, nasty ordeal known as summer has at last slunk off to its cave. I know the deep freeze is lying in wait up ahead, but just now, it's perfect. Bit of fog, bit of drizzle, cool breeze, I may as well be in good ol' London. Someday...

Finally gave my notice at the mortgage sweatshop. After ye olde Blackout, I find cross-borough commuting to be a less and less attractive option. At the time I got this job, of course, it was close to home. But Manhattan assignments pay better, and I wouldn't mind a short commute again.

I have this habit of getting jobs right before I move farther away from them. Or of quitting a job just before I move closer to it.

Maybe I'm just a dumbass.

The shortest commute I ever had was also the worst job I ever had. It was five minutes from my apartment in southwest Fort Worth, no traffic, no headache. But I had to call up old ladies and try to convince them to let one of our slimeball sales reps into their houses to railroad them into buying Living Trusts and such.

It was really awful. I lasted two weeks. And of course, immediately after that, I got a job that was 45 minutes away. Oy.

I did manage to "lose" a large portion of the phone number list I was given, so that the Living Trust bastards couldn't call them anymore. If I had been a true revolutionary, I'd have stayed and brought the whole operation down from the inside. But there you go.

9-9-03, 11:45 AM -

So here I am. Sweaty, sore throated, congested, unemployed, and on my way to protest John Ashcroft.

Actually, it's not quite as bad as it sounds. Temp agency has something for me, starting on Monday, and I'm on the tail end of this flu thing. Felt like monkey butt all weekend, and none too good now.

Dropped off the cat at the vet's office this morning for some dental work. She had some nasty-looking back teeth that the vet in Texas alerted me to before we brought her up here, so we're finally getting them taken care of.

And as far as Ashcroft is concerned, well, you can refer to my earlier posts about fundamentalist Christians. Besides, he's pitching add-ons to the Patriot Act downtown at Federal Hall today, and various nutball hippie groups have organized a protest outside. Should be fun.

Federal Hall is a cool old building next to the Stock Exchange. It's where Washington took his oath of office, in fact. How's that for history, me bucko?

12:30 PM -

Well, that was entertaining. I'm not a very good protester, because I tire of repetitive speeches and start wondering where the bathroom is after about 10 minutes. Stupid hippies and their mighty bladders.

Lunchies...

2:00 PM -

Cool. While I was passing through Madison Square Park, a little techie guy in a headset told me to take a different path, on account of the Law & Order episode what was filming just ahead. Sure enough, there was the camera setup. Sooner or later, I'll run into Angie Harmon. Oh, wait...

Anyhow, I'm now at the AMC Empire here in Times Square, gettin' prepped to see The Order. I don't know why I have an interest in Catholic arcana. Too many hours spent in college devouring Christian conspiracy books like Holy Blood, Holy Grail, most likely. We'll see if this sucks as much ass as it has the potential to.

5:00 PM -

Dang. Picked up the cat, and she's pretty groggy. They had to pull her two upper back teeth that were gonna rot the whole works, and for that they had to put her out. A quote from the nurse: "She's a fighter, that one." Don't I know it. Juuust this side of bobcat, really.

So we've got to give her painkillers and antibiotics for the next week or so, and she should be all right. She can barely walk right now, since she's still coming out of the anesthesia. Poor kitty. Hopefully she won't be pissed off enough to start crapping in my shoes or something. She's got a pretty good record of forgiveness, though, with all she's been through in 7 years of my parentage.

The movie actually wasn't bad, but I will say that Heath Ledger should never be given a role in which he has to cry. He just can't do it. His attempt looked and sounded like a combination of indigestion and a 10-year-old being afraid of his own poo in the bathtub. Just awful. But the rest was fine. Nice to see Peter Weller as the evil priest. Most know him as Robocop, but I know him as Buckaroo Banzai.

Laugh all you want, but I say there's a lot to like about Buckaroo Banzai. He's a rock star, he's a scientist, he's a racecar driver, he's everything. And it's about War of the Worlds, man. And it's got Christopher Lloyd and Jeff Goldblum in it. And there's a guy named John Small Berries. I fail to see what anyone could dislike about this movie.

9-12-03, 11:30 PM -

Listening to Dido, sitting in front of the computer, and marking time. Got word this morning that my texas CDs will be arriving on Monday. Freakin' out. (they're here... - ed.)