1:27 PM, Jan 8, 2006
Good and Bad
I went down to the Plaza area last night, over to Heidi and Carrie's house, to meet some new people, and help them prepare for their evening with a game of "power hour." I found that it was a tame sibling of the venerable Century Club
vomit generator. Instead of drinking a full ounce of beer every minute, for one hundred minutes, power hourers just take a healthy drink of beer from their glass every minute, for an hour. I am not putting this game down, though. When you don't have ten beers for each person playing, century club isn't really reasonable. It was in my attempt to be a two-time member in the Club that the infamous "toothbrush incident" occurred, when I was in college.
It was a very enjoyable way to spend an hour, and the conversation seemed very well directed at two topics that I love talking about: beer and taxes. I even managed not to come off looking like a psycho. We finished the game, and bundled up to head down to the Granfalloon(my favorite) for a beverage or two. After a beverage or two, I announced that I had to meet up with some friends over at the Levee. The group took this opportunity to relocate to my actual favorite bar on the Plaza: O'Dowd's. Wondering if I really should leave, I climbed into a cab in front of the bar, and asked the driver to take me to 43rd and Main.
I want to amend a statement I have previously made on this website. Not all cabbies try to screw you. But the ones from City Cab almost always do. From 47th and Pennsylvania, it's a very short trip to 43rd and Main. It only comes to about one mile, but I just wasn't in the mood to walk the undulating terrain it crosses. The cabbie was poised to turn right, into parking lot traffic on 47th, and would have done so, if I hadn't rather forcefully told him to go straight through the light, and take the side streets.
There was no traffic at all on the side streets, but that didn't stop him from driving at speeds no greater than fifteen miles per hour, in an effort to run up the fare. Not pleased, I slapped a five on the front seat, when the meter read $4.98, and said, "I'm getting out. Drive faster next time."
I suppose it should have been portentous to the rest of the evening. I walked the last couple hundred yards down 43rd street, to the Levee, forked over another five to get in, and went upstairs to find that Geoff was already wasted, Erp was busy talking to some girl, and everybody else I either didn't know, or couldn't strike up an interesting enough conversation to hold interest. Perhaps my mind was elsewhere. I left after about an hour.
Tired of dealing with taxicabs, I walked the four and a half miles home. Nobody threw anything at me this time, so I guess that was nice.