Day Two: New York City

Connecticut is the worst. It has its bright spots, but it is the worst. But I'll get there.

Day two began with a trip to IHOP in West Springfield. The eggs were really gross. I let Mikey know I was there with Danny. He asked what Danny ordered. "Bacon temptation omelette and three whole grain blueberry pancakes," I responded, forgetting about the sliced bananas atop said pancakes. "Shit don't change." Mikey said back, validating my thoughts from yesterday.

We took the truck back to the house and then I said my goodbyes and he said his good lucks. I was going to need them.

Hah.

I've disliked Connecticut as long as I can remember. Especially driving through Connecticut. Inexplicable traffic jams at the best, horrifying accidents at the worst. Many times I've grown impatient with Connecticut traffic and yelled something to the effect of "This is stupid." From what I can tell, these previous bursts of road rage were not unfounded. I wish I had pictures of what happened. I was on 84 west, crossing a bridge at exit 8, where the exit for north is on the left and the southbound exit is on the right. Through traffic flows through the middle lanes. I kind of thought this was weird, but at the same time, the hard top from a red Jeep Wrangler ahead of me was thrust into the sky, flipping end-over-end and landing rightside-up maybe 200 yards in front of me. It barely registered with me as it happened. The glass windows from the top exploded. I veered left into the next lane, unsure if another car was traveling beside me. Fortunately, it was unoccupied. Unfortunately, my right fender clipped the top. I looked into my rearview mirror to see if I was about to be rear-ended. Instead, I saw the beginnings of an idiotic Connecticut gridlock, and it all began to make sense.

I got to New York without further incident and Brooke did her best to show me a good time, starting the night by watching Batman and Robin, followed by Star Wars III. Thanks, Brooke!

Star Wars was pretty good, but we decided to go out and met up with Mikey in Brooklyn. We went to his place and met his new dog, Bean, then went to a bar called Union Pool that was essentially a sea of hipsters. It was cool though; the beer was cheap and there was plenty of good people watching to do.

There was even a taco bar in the back, but I didn't try any. Smelled good, though.

Then Brooke and I went to another bar down the street. I think it was called Pete's but I don't really remember. We talked for a while which was cool, it was kind of like back in Boston.

I guess it took a little longer to get back than it should have, because our cabbie ILLEGALLY (according to Brooke) ignored her suggested route. But I think he had zoned us out by the point she started talking to him, and he was probably justified in doing so. She crashed and I sat out on her porch and started to write this. It was around 3 a.m. and I was about to go to bed when her roommate Alex and one of their friends from New Orleans came home. Then I was offered whiskey and, yep, stayed up another three hours. 3 a.m. turns into 6 a.m. so quickly.