The Archive

Home on Bruce Hornsby

So I made it back alive.

I know, I know. I didn't blog immediately and I'm sorry. But I was tired ok?

So, where were we?

Ah yes, New York. Where it was hot. Very hot.

You know the kind of heat where you get off the plane and it hits you like a wet flannel. You think 'ooh, nice to have a bit of heat for a change'.

Then twenty seconds later you think 'my balls are sweating. That's not so nice'.

Then another ten seconds in and you wonder if you're going to survive. That's not nice at all.

Still, mustn't grumble. And the Americans have perfected the art of ferocious air conditioning, so it was all good as long as I could duck into a shop every twenty minutes or so.

So what do you think I did in New York? Basically nothing. I know, I was surprised too. I was expecting all kinds of shennanigans, but there really wasn't too much. So, some highlights...

1. Discovering the worst bar in New York.
I stumbled into a small bar in the meatpacking district... hang on, a digression. The meatpacking district is currently the 'hip' part of town where all the swanky designer shops and bars are located (until the next big thing, obviously).

Unfortunately, nobody seems to have told the meatpackers this. So there are still plenty of places hauling animal corpses around the place, dripping blood and unpleasantness onto the pavements.

The smell of raw meat hangs in the air and you get whiffs of it between the gucci perfume wafts of the local clientele. I think it may be ironic, although I am having trouble telling ironic things from things that are just crap these days.

Anyway, I was wandering around this area when I came across a bar that looked a bit more, erm, divey. So I went in.

The inside of this place is hard to describe. Have you seen the Texas Chainsaw Massacre? It was kind of like the horrible shack/house in that. Lots of weird Americana shit on the walls and liberal quantities of dust and gunk on everything.

Inside were a couple of sailors (more on that later) and a few horrible looking men playing pool.

I ordered a beer. The woman insulted me and got me a beer.

OK, fair enough I guess. She must have taken a dislike to me. Perhaps because I didn't have a bra.

You see, the ceiling was bestrewn with literally hundreds of bras of various shapes and sizes. Of course.

I had another drink, hoping things would start to make sense. They didn't. I left.

On returning home, I looked up the place (Hogs and Heifers).

It turns out that the bar is not exactly a dive bar so much as a theme bar, and the theme is 'horrible bar'.

I know, it's confusing isn't it?

I believe they were trying to conjure up a Coyote Ugly experience, hence the rude staff and shitty decor. And the bras come from a tradition that drunken women dance on the tables and remove their bras, adding them to the collection.

It didn't happen when I was there, I know that much.

2. Fleet week.
It turns out that the fleet was in whilst I was in New York. Consequently there were sailors in their little white outfits all over the shop.

I guess the idea is that the sailors get to visit NY and the NY people get to gawk at the boats.

At one restaurant, a couple went over to thank a woman in uniform for her service, it was actually quite touching. You'd never get that here would you?

In fact, I saw people being grateful to servicemen and women a number of times. I feel we could learn a thing or two from that.

The other unfortunate effect of Fleet Week, however, was that I kept thinking I was in a musical.

Right, that's if for now folks. More tomorrow.

Toodle pip.

posted by Peter The Great @ 4:18 PM