As you may recall, Aaron the Australian is visiting me for the weekend. Not because New York City is a must-see-before-you-die tourist destination but because Katie Ett is one. And while there have been many history-making moments thus far, this has to be my favourite:
So we’re on the Staten Island Ferry, and Aaron decides to spit in the water while I’m preoccupied with picking my nose or something, thinking that spittle will fly straight down despite the fact that we’re in a boat that’s rushing from one island to another. But no! Instead, it of course flew right back toward the man standing two feet behind him. Aaron buried his head in the railing, so I leaned over his shoulder and said, “Sorry! He didn’t know that would happen!” The guy said something back to me that I thought sounded like “that was close” and Aaron thought sounded like “that was gross”. He said it with a smile on his face, though, and didn’t pummel Aaron directly afterward, so I think I’m right.
Although he was probably a tourist from Ohio, and you know that kind just loves to get spit on.
The night before Halloween, the good doctor and I went to see the second-to-last night of the Banksy exhibit, The Village Petstore and Charcoal Grill. We weren’t exactly sure where we were going and wound up in a as-seedy-as-the-West-Village-gets part of the West Village full of gay bars and fetish shops and thought we were soooooo cool for going to such an underground, out-of-the-way showing. And then we realized it was actually on 7th Ave., right beside a SushiSamba and a Jekyll and Hyde. Lame!
There was a bit of a line, and some British-accented douchebags walked by and yelled, “You’re waiting in line for this?! It’s not worth it!” But a minute later, we saw him perched outside one of the windows, taking photos with everyone else. We were hoping one of them was secretly Banksy.
The sign outside welcomed us in for some mechanically-retrieved meats,
and the walls inside beckoned us to buy treats for our pets:
From the outside, a sleeping cheetah, complete with a swinging tail and belly that inflated and deflated to show breathing:
From the inside, a cheetah-print coat. AMAZING!:
A chimpanzee watching a pair of other chimpanzees on television, pausing during the humping parts:
An ancient-looking Tweety Bird, his feather lying at his feet:
A spider in a gumball machine, inexplicably:
My absolute favourite, a pair of swimming fish sticks:
This is the thing that–when I saw a video of it online–made me say, “I HAVE to see this!” And it was even better in person:
Many types of snakes, made of many different kinds of sausages, including baby snakelets:
Chickens made of nuggets, pecking at their sauce:
And a rather disgusting/awesome nugget just hatched out of its egg:
A pretty bunny:
A video camera bird with its birdlings in a nest:
Love the flashing “liquor” and “wines” sign in the background.
The obligatory penis in the guestbook:
And finally, a netted dolphin that we swear is actually always outside of Jekyll and Hyde and accidentally became a part of the exhibit:
I managed to talk Dr. Boyfriend into riding it while I videotaped, but I forgot to ever hit record. To compensate, he allowed me to take this picture, which is, I’m sure, the only time he’ll be near a farm. Even a faux one:
Funny how mechanical food can somehow seem cute, huh? I didn’t take away any bigimportant message about the ethical treatment of animals or anything, but I did take away feelings of amazement and awesomeness and a whole lotta gladness that I live in the city I do.
If there’s one thing I appreciate about New York City, it’s that despite the fact that everyone here is thin, everything begs us to be fat. A Salt & Battery in the West Village, for instance, has a daily menu that includes deep-fried candy bars. Which is, you know, the sort of thing you should only be able to get once a year at a county fair if you don’t want to have a heart attack and die at age 32.
And even worse is Pommes Frites, which is an entire restaurant devoted solely to french fries covered in your choice of 25 different sauces. The fries come in cones that are listed as Regular, Large, and Double but should be called Enough for Two, Enough for Twelve, and Enough for the Entire Neighborhood. They’re the giant Belgian fries that you think will be super-mushy but are actually plenty crunchy, even when drowned in Pomegranate Teriyaki Mayo. If you’re looking for recommendations, Kamran enjoys the War Sauce, and I’m a fan of the Wasabi Mayo, though be warned that it will burn your face off. The fry guys are very friendly and will let you try the sauces before you decide on one, so don’t be afraid to sample.
The restaurant itself is a tiny little sliver of a room with the counter up front and a couple of picnic tables in the back. It’s very dark and cozy but usually so crowded that we end up eating outside, either sitting in the two wooden chairs they’ve provided or standing in front of the convenience store next door with the surprisingly impressive array of foreign beers displayed in its window. Like so:
Put this on your List of Things to Do with Katie When I Visit Her.
So there’s this really adorable French store in the West Village called Pylones that drew my doctor boyfriend and me in with its intensely bright neon colors one Saturday night a few weeks ago while we walked around after dinner. It looks like anime exploded both all over the walls and on everything being sold, which is a pretty exciting juxtaposition to the otherwise dark Grove Street with its trendy restaurants.
While Kamran was attracted to the $45 thermoses, I really wanted the $25 hen handbag. And of course there’s the $16 magnetic bird that chirps when you touch it and then is still chirping three hours later but is so cute you don’t mind.
I could tell yesterday that you weren’t totally blown away by the celebrities I’ve rubbed elbows with, and early this morning, I realized why. I forgot to add the most important ones, the ones I was actually filmed with. And in Meryl’s case, the one that I actually ran into accidentally. So here are the additions to my List of All the Famous People I Can Remember Having Seen Whilst Living in NYC for you to ooh and ahh at:
Please note that I reserve the right to keeping posting this sort of jazz whenever I remember another one, because nothing else in my life has any meaning.
I'm Katie, a farmgirl originally from Ohio who moved to NYC in 2005 for no apparent reason. I like vintage-looking things that are actually new, filagree everything, people who don't make me feel awkward, meaning it when I say "no sleep till Brooklyn", and not trying too hard.
