Coming home
Visit to N and NYC was fabulous - it really was like coming home.
I have lived in many places, and don’t really feel an affinity to any other place - it’s always just been where I lived and worked before.
But NYC (well, actually Jersey City, but don’t tell the purists) really does feel like home. Even the ‘Jersey City Smell’ seems right somehow. Met up with the lovely Pob (no point linking to him, he hasn’t updated in AGES) at Heathrow, where he spent most of the time taking phots of my cleavage, and comparing them with Marilyn Monroe.
This was my Victoria Beckham impression - although the chin looks more like Bruce Forsyth!
Did some shopping, although not a huge amount - I was a little less like a kiddy in a sweet shop this time, despite the phenomenol exchange rate! I did take some cash out, gambling that the rate will go down by the time I next visit America in December.
Walking back from the mall, we saw a crazy sky rainbow. I assume there was something on the top of the building reflecting the sun, but it did look a bit weird.
We tried to find Roger-the-Barman, but the bar he moved to was awful, the staff were extremely unhelpful and rude, and very slow to serve us drinks.
So off we headed to Fitzies.
To be greeted with a hugely warm welcome - I have never known a place quite like it. Plus it has the added bonus of a barman who looks at me and says, “You like it strong?” and proceeds to poor the British equivalent of around 4 vodkas into a glass. And then deciding the glass wasn’t big enough, so pouring it into a bigger glass, and then adding another slug.
I had 4 of those.
Plus we were given 3 shots of various things - no idea what they were, some were left over cocktails mixed for someone else, but some were mixed entirely for us.
Saturday we met up with another friend, and of course ended up back in Fitzies.
Why do I always end up looking drunk and sweaty?
Oh yeah……….