I have an annual work conference to attend in the ever-exciting metropolis of Newark, New Jersey. My attendance is optional, but I choose to go every year in order to meet people from the other offices, to get additional air miles (!) and to take a jaunt into New York City. My flight out was last Sunday, a red eye. I’d taken Monday off just to spend time in New York City. On Tuesday a Company dinner was planned and Wednesday was the day of the conference. Wouldn’t you know it? There was a 100% chance of heavy rain and wind in BOTH Newark and New York City. That required me to pack all of those extra heavy things that I wasn’t originally planning to take – sweaters, boots, a wool coat and an umbrella! I already over pack for every trip, anyway, so that certainly didn’t help.
My flight arrived in Newark at 8:06 a.m. last Monday. According to a text sent by United Airlines, my checked bag had arrived on an earlier flight. I had to hunt someone down in the Baggage Claim who directed me to the counter for Lost Luggage. That counter directed me to another counter. There was no one at the counter they’d directed me to, though I could see my bag sitting there as clear as day. I called out “Hello? Hello?,” but no one answered. After about 5 minutes, a man came over in search of his luggage, too. When I informed him that no one seemed to be around, he then went in search of help. Once the two of us got our luggage, I went outside in the rain to stand in the long taxi line. I had a waterproof hat on & my wool coat, so it was bearable, though chilly. When I got to the front of the line, I got out my American Express card in order to pay. The crazed East Indian woman manning the taxi stand yelled “Cash only! No credit cards!” “Then why is there a machine with credit card symbols all over it that says ‘Pay Here'” I asked. “I tell you over and over again, it’s broken!” she screamed at me. “There’s no way you could have told me over and over, as I just got to the front of the line, lady,” was my response. “You have cash?!” she queried. “Let me see,” I said, as I took my time digging through my purse. I did, so she pointed me towards my taxi and I was on my merry way to the Gateway Hilton.
At the Hilton, my room was ready, so I took a quick shower, semi-arranged my toiletries and clothes and tried to log on to the internet. Nothing worked, though I entered my Hilton Honors number and my room number over and over again. I finally was frustrated enough to call the front desk. They’d forgotten to give me the password for guests! After I was able to log in and check a few things, I bundled up to head into New York City.
The PATH Train is my normal mode of transportation into NYC. Penn Station in Newark is attached to the Gateway Hilton, thus I don’t have to go outside and cross the street to get to the station. Once I got to the PATH train platform, there was construction going on. I bought a ticket, but signs were directing me that all PATH trains would be leaving from Platform H. I then proceeded to follow the trail of signs all over the station until I found Platform H. The ride into NYC takes about 30 or 40 minutes, with a change at Journal Square if I’m going to take the 33rd Street train, which I did. My first stop was to check out Eataly, Mario Batalli’s emporium of restaurants and food stuffs. I was duly impressed and could have wandered for days. The only restaurant I was interested in eating at was the one serving pasta, but they were completely full. I contented myself by buying some salted caramel peanut butter and a few other things, then taking the train to another station. I wandered around the Herald Square area and even stopped in at the Empire State Building, which I’d never seen before. Of course, with the rain and fog, there was no view that day, so it wouldn’t have been worth it to pay the $32 to go up. By then, I needed to eat. I had lunch at a little bistro called Petit Poulet – chicken salad and a glass of pinot grigio. My final stop was to be the Greenwich Village branch of Amelie, which purportedly opened at 4:00 p.m. for Happy Hour. They didn’t appear to be open at 4:00 p.m. or even at 4:30 p.m., for that matter. I had to bide my time by wandering around and around the neighborhood taking pictures, mostly of cherry blossoms.
Amelie was open at 5:00 p.m. and Yours Truly was the first customer. I had my usual champagne flight, after which I informed the cute and competent bartender of my preferred wines (vouvray, viognier, sancerre, cabernet franc and pinot noir) and said that he could dream up a flight for me. At the same time, I inquired as to whether they had crème brulee. He assured me that theirs was very good because it also had caramelized bananas on it. That was enough to convince me! I finished it off in due time! Shortly thereafter, a man at the bar began talking about New Orleans and how he was headed that way for Jazz Fest. We struck up a conversation once I said that I’d recently returned from there. He gave me his card with his E-mail address and phone number on it as he was leaving, saying that he hoped we’d keep in touch. By then, I’d finished my second flight. The bartender asked what I thought. The first glass (sancerre) was good, the second one (viognier) was too tart and the third one (cabernet franc) was fine. He poured a glass of sauvignon blanc to make up for the viognier. It WAS a vast improvement. As I was about to ask for the bill, he then poured me another glass of white wine (didn’t catch the name) that was a favorite of another bartender there. I was slightly loopy by the end of that one, but HAD to pay my bill and head back to Newark. He asked how long I’d be in town and was disappointed to hear that I was due at a Company dinner the following night and would be on a flight back to San Francisco the night after that. When we embraced and kissed each other goodbye (on the cheek), he fanned himself and said, with a smile, that he was feeling warm. He was so cute that I was VERY tempted to either stay out way past the Witching Hour or to skip the Company dinner the following evening. As it was, I was back at the Gateway Hilton and in my PJs by 10:00 p.m.
