Just your typical pilgrim-looking women standing behind their plaid-wearing men at Washington Square. It was quite sad--the man to the far right was giving a speech...to a virtually nonexistent crowd. I heard him saying something about us needing to be saved. I would have stayed longer to try to engage in a conversation with him but I didn't have time.
After a whole day of helping my friend unpack her boxes from her apartment, we were ready to devour the long-anticipated pizza from Grimaldi's, supposedly the best pizza place in New York (according to my Not For Tourist book). My friends and I headed out to Brooklyn around 9pm with thoughts of crispy pepperoni pieces, melted cheese, and delicious tomato sauce and grease dripping from the pizza (and our faces). But even before we crossed the street to the restaurant, we saw a HUGE line standing outside the restaurant. I was hoping that perhaps there's a club right next door and the doors didn't open yet, but much to my disappointment, that was the line to the restaurant! Damn you New Yorkers for eating so late! Grimaldi's doesn't sell pizza by the slice, doesn't take reservations, and their take-out line is the same as the dine-in line! If I had to wait that long, that pizza better be a party in my mouth or I would go choke the chef! We were too hungry to wait, especially with the possibility that we wouldn't make it into the restaurant before it closed, so we headed toward the water to get a I-want-to-make-out-with-somebody view of Manhattan. My camera wasn't able to capture the same lighting, but you get the point--it was beautiful.
After grabbing a bite to eat from a falafel place (pretty tasty...but probably not as good as the pizza would have been!), my friends and I took the subway to a pool party in Harlem (invited by friend's friend). At first, my friend's roomie was scared to go to Harlem, saying that there were some areas where the people who lived there would shoot people who "trespassed" in their territory and that the police wouldn't even cross into that area. Maybe she was watching too many COPS episodes...But we convinced her to go after some reassurance from other friends who were familiar with Upper Harlem. We took the subway around 12am, and after waiting for transfers and a bus shuttle, didn't arrive to the party until 1am. For a $20 ticket, I was expecting a dance club, but to my surprise, it was a community's annual pool party, where residents of all ages from surrounding apartment complexes got together to dance and talk. My friends and I danced a bit and somehow ended up in the Conga line around the pool. Who knew the Conga could be so fun?
Following the party, my friend's friend took us to a small bar down the street. On the way to the bar, I would see huge groups of people standing on a street corner. Apparently, they hang out there just for the sake of hanging out. When we arrived to the bar, it was crowded in there but we found some room in the corner of the bar. While I was bopping my head to the music and glancing around the room, my eyes locked on a 60ish year-old Caucasian man (the only one in the room) making out with a drunk African American woman in her late 20's. To be exact, he was sucking her face. From time to time, I'll see couples where the man is a lot older than the woman, but this was pretty awkward because it just didn't look right. Maybe it was a racial thing. Maybe it was an age thing. Or maybe it was just gross to see two people eating each other's faces. Everyone around me had the same disgusted look on their face and we all knew from each other's expression what we were reacting to. A bit later, a Caucasian woman (the only one in the room) with an African American man walked over to the grandpa and talked to him. She looked a lot like him, with the possibility of her being his daughter. She too started making out with the man who she was with, right next to her daddy look-a-like. It was like a father-daughter tag team action going on.
Today's experience demystified my preconceived notions of traveling on the subway late at night and hanging out in Harlem (although I did have locals who took me around). I definitely have fears that are a result from my sheltered life in OC and from my anxiety-ridden mother, and I know that my time here will abate those fears. However, I have yet to walk home late at night alone (I sleep at my friend's place in the city)...I think I have to improve my ninja skills before I do so...
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