New York Diary: Part IV.
Drunk And Painted Green.
Going by what EVERYBODY told me last night, there is no way I’m avoiding St. Patrick’s Day in Manhattan.
I’m in the wrong place too.
5th Avenue – The very heart of the St. Patrick’s Day Parade!
No way am I avoiding this.
Today, the bars opened at 5am and everyone is Irish.
They’re more Irish than the Irish today!
- Except they’re not.
Their Great Grandparents were maybe from Ireland but eating a bowl of Lucky Charms every morning is about as Irish as most of the folks I meet today are gonna get.
The parade is brilliant and everyone is drunk and painted green but 5 hours of standing in a big fuck off crowd like this?
It’s jam packed here and after 2 hours I decide to get the hell out of there.
I head up to Central Park West and keep walking.
I’ve got designs on seeing Harlem but I get nowhere near it.
I walked up and took a left at The Dakota building where John Lennon got shot in 1980.
Across 72nd and down through Columbus Circle.
It’s nice and quiet up here and I’m wishing my Family were up this part of town with me when a funny thing happens.
Who do I spy WAAAAAYYYYY across the street at the foot of Central Park but my Family!
Crazy when you think I never told them where I was gonna be and I left them blocks and blocks away on the east side of the city on one of busiest days of the year.
That’s New York for ya!
My Sister told me of her trauma of meeting Elmo and how he wanted “Dollars!” before he allowed a photo!
The St. Patrick’s Celebrations continued all day and all night.
I was impressed by New Yorkers and their ability to drink.
…But only just.
I guess it’s easy with the teeny weeny glasses they call ‘pints’
Today, the entire city took a day off.
Even The Empire State Building got in on the action!
Even the usually black Metlife Building was green that day and I still can’t work out how that was done.
Don’t try and tll me it’s always green because it’s not!
That night we walked around Times Square which is probably the most terrifying part of New York for me.
Neon everywhere and mobbed with tourists and rip-off shops.
Pretty to look at though
At 11pm that night I did something which I don’t think I’ll forget any time soon.
I walked around Midtown Manhattan listening to Bernard Hermann’s soundtrack for “Taxi Driver”.
That was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had!
When I was sure all the drunks would be drunk enough to get their asses home, I hit a few bars.
I can’t stand these meathead frat guys.
I saw 5 of them all high-fiving each other outside an Irish Bar beside Madison Square Garden and when I walked past them into the bar they shouted “Hey man! Do you like Football!?” but I just glowered at them because I still had the seedy murderous music of “Taxi Driver” in my ears.
It was a pretty good bar to be fair.
It was called Molly Wee’s and you should stop by if you’re ever passing.
Abbey tried to teach me to dance that night.
Big mistake there.
I’m the World’s worst dancer!
I’ve danced girls full on into walls before and had to run away!
One of these days I’m gonna learn to dance.
I remember those frat guys coming into the bar later and shouting:
“CAN I GET A HEEEEELLLLLL YEAH!?” and straight away I heard a Glasgow voice answer:
It could’ve been the whisky I was drinking but it was the funniest thing I’d seen all night.
My 4th night ended at 4ish across the street listening to the whole bar sing along to Bob Dylan’s “Subtrerranean Homesick Blues”
I loved that and already I was dreading the homesickness I knew I was gonna be feeling for New York in a couple of days time.