New York Revisited

I'm in New York again. Only for a few days, and strictly 'on business'

Well, kind of.

Yesterday, I clenched my fists and headed to JFK, with the wind gnawing at my nose. I waited at arrivals for a friend. A very good friend.

Tom and I worked together in Manchester at a bar called Cloud 23. Cloud 23 is situated on the top of the Hilton Hotel in Manchester. My days at Cloud 23 consisted of remembering a massive amount of cocktails, talking about spirits to men who 'know', making a massive amount of cocktails, smoking a massive amount of cigarettes, drinking a massive amount of cocktails, forgetting to sleep and partying hard. All of these activities were executed with maximum force, accompanied by my buddy Tom.

Tom is one of those friends that, when I'm with him, anything can and will happen. We end up in the strangest situations, and usually don't end up sleeping for days at a time. Tom is close to my heart, he makes me laugh hard and i've never had a sore moment with him. I have another friend like this, his name is Ed.

I've never waited at a 'plane station' for someone before. I felt nervous. I watched the clock tick-tock slowly, whilst tapping my fingers fast against my leg.

I stared at the beautiful girl across the room from me, she had brown hair and the eyes of a faun. Big round brown eyes blinking at me, I could have dived into those eyes and gone paddling. I thought about having one of those "I don't know you, but let's have sex in a toilet moments" until a large, virile boy in a hockey shirt came running up to her and they locked lips.

"Cunt" I thought.



Shortly after they left, a large figure with a sports bag on his shoulder came through the doors.

"You!" I shouted, whilst pointing at the man, causing all one hundred and fifty people in the room to stare.

"Fucking right brother! Get yo ass here!" The man replied

He ran towards me. I stood my ground and waited to meet him head on. As he got closer, I opened my arms and he reciprocated. I closed my eyes and was thrust into the air with a big bear hug by a man who is a lot taller than I.

Tom had arrived.


We smiled and realised that Tom had broken his glasses in the commotion. Anyone else and this would have been a downer, but nothing matters when you're in New York with good company, according to Tom.

We hopped in a cab and caught up. We talked about friends, jobs, America, sex, drugs, alcohol, and why Tom was here. Those six categories are basically why Tom is here, though he has some work to do too. Tom is here after meeting a group of guys in the bar he works at in Manchester. These guys are young, fun and looking to open a bar in New York. They want Tom to run it, if it happens, and so, he is here to scope out the bar scene and see what the drinks are like. Now, I don't really fit into this equation, though Tom sees me as a 'Musical Consilieri', and if it all this goes ahead in the future, I could find myself with a residency in a brand spanking New York bar. I'd be a fool not to snap that up.

I dropped Tom off at Michael's apartment on the upper west side and went to check in at my hostel shortly after. Luckily, the hostel is walking distance from Michael's place. My hostel smells of Mexicans and is full of Mexicans. I like Mexicans, so that's ok.

I had a shower and lost my towel, so I dried myself with a pair of pants. I put on my smartest clothes, a shirt and baggy trousers, complimented by my boots, and laughed at myself in the mirror. Then I went back to Mike's place. Mike has a beautiful apartment, with Music in every room, a large TV, a sink like a bathtub and a wine cabinet that made do a little wee. Tom and I ate tapenade and I had 'real' cheese for the first time since being in this country.

We walked out and went to meet Mike and Shaun.


Tequila, a glass of red and a pint of beer sat in front of me and I hadn't even ordered food. I thought about how drunk I was going to be this evening and clenched my fists. Normally, I wouldn't mix up in such a fashion, but Tom and I have difficulty dealing with self control when we are together, so it's a question of putting yourself into a neutral state and letting it all wash over you. If we don't end up play 'fight club' with each other in the street or being sick on each other, Tom and I know we've had a quiet night.

I ate the most incredible Ropa Viejo and Calamari, it was the first time since Louisiana where the food excited me more than the prospect of a blow job. The wine was great and I nipped a wee drab of Pedro Ximenz Sherry from Tom's glass.

Mike insisted on paying for the meal, and insisted on nearly everything for the rest of the night. He told me that for this week, a lot of my indulgence will be covered. This makes me feel slightly ashamed. I won't refuse such hospitality, and I do need it, the places where we have been going are way out of my financial league, but I plan to chip in where I can, even if it equates to one or two per cent of the bill. These guys have worked very hard for their vast amounts of money and I respect that greatly. It's something I am incapable of. But if they come back to England and I see them, I will take them for beer and a burger at wetherspoons, and I will insist on covering the cost.

The rest of the night is as murky as the river Tyne. I remember being in a library room, drinking a whisky sour. I remember being in the flatiron district and drinking vast amounts of cocktails. Flights of them. I remember being back at Shauns. I remember Tom getting carded at a bar and being very unhappy about it. I remember laughing at that. I remember playing pool badly. I remember a Spanish girl taking my number. I remember thinking about the bar girl from Sip and reminding myself to ring her this weekend. I remember going to Mcdonalds at about four in the morning and buying a coke. I remember falling onto the Japanese girl in the bed next to me in the hostel, whilst trying to pull my trousers off. Poor girl, I think she might have cried rape in a foreign tongue. Oh, and I remember stroking a police horse.