Tuesday 2nd September – The Open

Firstly, I feel I should congratulate my brother Ben on making it to his 19th birthday without being killed by being run over by a car or anything. Pretty much.
Gill and I had been planning a trip to the US Open since she added me on MSN back in May. I’d always wanted to go to Wimbledon back home, but the tickets are ridiculously expensive back home and going to the US Open seemed like a sensible way of getting some tennis action into my life without having to sell a kidney. So on Thursday, Gill won a couple of day tickets to today’s match. The seats were high enough to make our ears pop and noses bleed, but we didn’t care because we’d only paid $30 each for a day of professional tennis.


We turned up at the National Tennis Centre at about lunch time (Hayley - that’s what the Americans call dinner time), having bought muffins to eat on the way there (we didn’t eat any proper food all day now I think about it. We survived on burgers, chips and ice-cream) and immediately bought a cup of tea to drink whilst we pasted ourselves in sun-block. How very English of us.

We entered Arthur Ashe Stadium (the US version of Centre Court) just after Djokovic had started playing his 4th round game against a Spaniard called Robredo. Having never heard of Robredo, I assumed straight away that this was going to be a three set game. We weren’t let down though, as both players played damn well and gave us a three hour, five set match that ended in the favourite winning.
By the time the Djokovic match was over, we’d moved seats four times, ending up in $180 seats that weren’t taken yet. We had been moved a few times by this point, both by security and by people wanting their seats back, but by this point we’d managed to settle in some seats that weren’t to be taken for the rest of the day.

The second match to play was Federer – Andreev, a match that should again have been a walk-over. This also turned out to be a five-setter though, this time due to the favourite’s suprising lack of form, rather than the underdog’s suprising new skill-set.
We’d already decided that we should stick around for the evening matches at the stadium too, which was a women’s quarter-final, as well as Andy Roddick’s 4th round match against Gonzalez. By ‘we’, I mainly mean ‘Gill’, who has a near psychotic obsession with America’s golden boy of tennis. So Dave (who hadn’t been able to come during the day due to work) bought three tickets for the match online for $65 a head and met us at the stadium. He actually managed to con his way into the last set of the Federer match too which was a surprise as the crowds waiting to get in were fairly huge by this point.

This was due to the two men’s games totalling nearly 8 hours in length. The Roddick match was over far quicker than these two with the American winning all three sets (and losing only seven games out of the 25 played), and before I knew it we were back on the last train home to Locust Valley having sat through over 10 hours of tennis for about £50 each.

For the record, despite being in the sun for most of that time, I didn’t tan at all, coming back the same colour as when I left, with only a red triangle on my chest where I’d forgotten to put sunblock.

Sunday 31st August – I want to do something!

It dawned on me today that I only have three weeks left in America - which seems strange, as it feels like I have been here for no time at all. Though somehow, at the same time it feels like I’ve been here for my entire life. Everything seems normal here now, and even New York doesn’t have the same ‘wow’ factor that it did when I first arrived here (though don’t get me wrong – I still think it’s the most amazing city in the world and I’m definitely going to be coming back). As I got onto a train into Manhattan on Monday afternoon, the pale, cold, industrial feel of the train felt more real and homely than that of the warm comfortable Virgin trains that run all round the UK. I’ve grown accustomed to chopping up my food like a baby and eating it with my right hand, as well as drinking lemon and lime flavoured sprite and Gatorades instead of Lucozades.
Having said all of this, I now have very little time left in New York, and I want to make the most of it. On Tuesday, Gillian and I are going to the US Open, to catch the women’s quarter finals and the men’s fourth round. Next Monday, the plan is to go skydiving one last time, and this time get a video of the experience so I don’t forget how it felt. Hopefully before I leave I will also have enough time off to get a little bit of a tan (save explaining to everyone why I’ve come back home the same colour as when I left) and do some shopping for everyone back home.
Tonight is Piping Rock’s Clam Bake, a large event where we’ll host a buffet and drinks for about 300 people. I’ve already worked since 8am, and am now on a short break in the middle of the day. I’ll probably finish at around midnight. Roll on Thursday’s pay check!

Monday 18th – A Quiet Night Out in Manhattan

In Bath you can go out on a Monday night and have a good time. There are clubs and bars that are packed with people drinking, dancing, and generally having a good time. Obviously this is helped by Monday being the student night in Bath, but the same is true for most other major cities in the UK. However, the same does not appear to be true in Manhattan. On Monday night, Gill, Kirsty, Dave and I all wandered into the city, holding high expectations of what to expect from another night out in the city. We’d been out in the city on a Sunday night and had a good time, so a Monday should have been no problem. We were wrong.
We got off the train at Penn Station and immediately jumped into a yellow cab. We asked the taxi driver to take us to somewhere that would be lively on a Monday night, and to be honest we thought we’d end up somewhere good. Instead, the taxi driver drove us around the same block four times, and then dropped us at a lap-dancing club. If it had just been me and Dave, then we may have considered going in. But with two girls in tow, there was no way we were going to be spending the night looking at boobs.
So we got out and walked through Times Square, eventually settling on one of about a thousand Irish bars that are littered all over New York. The bartender in there was all too happy to point us in the direction of the good part of New York (once we’d bought a drink of course), so we quickly drunk up and headed downtown into Greenwich Village, the party centre of the city. A couple of hours later, having spent ages walking, following directions and turning down various bars littered around the village, we ended up in a club that had come highly recommended by some people in a beer and wine bar that we’d stopped in previously. They’d promised us that ‘Big Fat Black Pussy Cat’ would be pumping on a Monday night and that we’d have an awesome time. It turned out to be an underground bar with a soul band playing. We had fun there, but it wasn’t really what we’d been expecting.

I’ve been waiting for a while before posting this entry because Gill and Kirsty went back out into the city on Saturday night, and I wanted to have something to compare our night out too. However, on getting back on Sunday morning, they said that they didn’t have much of a wild time either. We’ve decided since then that the main reason why going out in New York isn’t living up to expectations is because we don’t know where we’re going, and when all of the good bars and clubs are as spread out as they are in Manhattan, this makes things tricky.

Thursday 14th & Saturday 16th – Black and White

Thursday was a fairly straightforward day, with me working the main club during the day, and then originally having the evening off. However, for fear of only making 25 hours this week, I asked to swap shifts with Anahita in the evening so that she could be a lazy-arse and I could earn some more cash. Thursday nights are usually quiet ones to work anyway, as they’re Bistro nights which aren’t overly formal, and don’t attract big tables of people. What did make it interesting however, was the fact that there was a massive thunderstorm on that evening, and at some point, a power line must have been struck by lightning because we lost power for half an hour. All of the extractor fans died in the kitchen (along with the lights), making it completely illegal for the kitchen staff to cook hot food in there. However, they didn’t have much choice as they were in the middle of cooking a bunch of steaks and chickens for a birthday party for one of the important members. Him and his 17 friends.


Saturday was the opposite of this dark disaster of a short, quiet shift. On Saturday, a couple of the members got married. This meant that I worked from 8am ‘til 11 as a breakfast waiter, from 11.30am ‘til 6pm bartending at the terrace bar, and then from 6pm ‘til after midnight bartending at the wedding. And with it being a wedding, there were people there who didn’t know that the staff weren’t allowed to receive tips. To be honest, the evening was actually the most fun I’ve had at work in a while, as there was an awesome covers band playing all night and I could get away with drinking on the job.
I came away from Saturday evening with $20 in my pocket, 16 hours of wages in the bank, and a massive need for some sleep.

Monday 11th June – The Staff Party

So this was it, the most eagerly anticipated date in the whole calendar (well, for the PRC staff anyway). We’d been promised a four course meal, a free bar, a stunning location and the next day off work. And we were ready to receive!
During the day, Leah drove a few of us into Glen Cove, a nearby village (with far more to offer than Locust Valley!). There Kirsty and Leah got their hair cut, and Dave, Ben and I went to pick up alcohol from the liquor store and sandwiches from the Mexican take-away. We arrived back at Piping Rock and hour before the buses were scheduled to leave for the aquarium that had been booked for the evening’s entertainment. An hour turned out to be exactly long enough to shower, shave, cut my own hair (well, a combined effort between me and Dave), have a few drinks, get dressed and cover myself in Hugo Boss (the aftershave, not Mr Boss himself!). So at 4.30 we all piled outside to get into the buses that had been booked for us (which turned out to be school buses!).

Obviously, it was then a good 45 minutes before the buses actually left to take us to wherever it was we ended up, and this meant that the bus had to stop at a gas station on the way so that we could all visit the bathroom.
Piping Rock had gone all out this year, booking us in at a ‘Top 10 aquarium for kids’, and the inside of the aquarium had been really nicely done up for us all. It was quite strange being on the receiving end of the passed hors d'oeuvres and free drinks, but obviously we all did our best not to let that bother us as we partied away all night.
When we all got called into the dining area for the meal, everyone sat down and waited to be served the first course (of four). Strangely though, once everyone had finished eating the first course of pasta, the general consensus was that it was time to get up and dance again. This meant that everyone missed the salad that was coming for the second course, and then turned up late to the entrée. We spent the rest of the night wandering through shark tanks and smoking cigars (has to be done, sorry dad!), before being rounded up to leave at about 11pm.

Saturday 9th – Parties All Around

On Saturday, I worked a 13½ hour day. To be honest, this seems like madness, but the cash will be well appreciated. I think that by the end of the week I will have worked a 45+ hour week, which when you consider that business is starting to die down (and that all the Americans are still here) is an impressive amount of hours.
I started at 8am yesterday (as ever), and didn’t leave until 11pm. I had an hour and a half break in the middle, but except for that I was on my feet all day.
At lunch time, I bartended for a bridal shower party, which involved making vodka-laced cocktails for pretty ladies who were all dressed up in the hope of out-doing each other. In the evening I bartended for a birthday party for one of the members (who must have been about 80 or 90, judging by the amount of grandchildren that were with him) which involved making rum-laced cocktails for fat Americans who were all dressed in matching blazers and slacks.
In the evening, I had to miss a party that most of the staff were going to because I was too tired to go out, and because I had another 8am start coming up the next day. It didn’t sound that good anyway.
Despite all my whinging though (which is pretty much entirely what this entry is made up of), I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, in the form of the staff party which is on Monday night. It’s an all-expenses paid meal and drinkathon at a fancy aquariam type place on Long Island. I’ve bought clothes especially for it, I’m taking a model with me as my date, and I’m starving hungry. So it should be a good night!

Wednesday 6th – We Were Hoping For Some Romance

I’d bought my Bloc Party tickets back in May on a whim, hoping that I could find three other bloc lovers to join me at the gig. They’d cost me $130 in total, and if I ended up going by myself, there’d be a chance I couldn’t sell the spares outside the gig, and I’d be left in debt. But within weeks of coming to America, it was apparent that I wasn’t the only Bloc Party fan at the club. In fact, both nights that Bloc Party were due to play at Webster Hall had sold out completely.
So I convinced Dan the manager to give me, Anahita, Dave and Del both Wednesday night and Thursday morning off work, and we headed into the city on Wednesday afternoon to what turned out to be the best gig of my life.


We eat lunch at a Mexican grill place that was like the Mexican version of subway, where you get to choose between burritos and fajitas, and then choose all your fillings (plus a corona, obviously!) before walking straight to Webster Hall to sort out picking up the tickets that had been booked on my dad’s credit card. Thankfully, there were no problems picking these up, and after sitting in a bar round the corner for a bit, we headed into the venue wondering what to expect.


Last time I saw Bloc Party, it was at Alexandra Palace, a huge venue in London. This time was very different though. From where we were standing, there was about five rows of people in front of us, and less than 20 behind. We waited whilst the second support band, ‘Does It Offend You, Yea?’ finished their set, and then waited more whilst the roadies changed the stage. We met a bunch of British Camp America kids whilst we were waiting but I was so excited about the band (as well as needing a wee really badly) that I didn’t really join in.


When the band finally took to the stage, the floor began to shake with excitement. As they broke into Hunting for Witches, the whole crowd started jumping up and down in unison, the floor quite literally bouncing with us underneath our feet. I danced constantly throughout the gig, jumping about like a madman to familiar music that I felt had travelled with me all the way from home. At the end of their main set, they ran straight from Song for Clay into Banquet, a pair of songs which got the crowds moving even more than normal. At one point, Kele even stage dived into the crowd, being carried to the back of the room where he got up on a table with some girls in the crowd and danced away to his own song.


Obviously the band’s first encore was filled with a bunch of crowd pleasers, playing the most popular songs from the last few albums, plus a cover of Prince’s ‘I Would Die 4 U’ which ran perfectly into Bloc Party’s epic disco song Flux.
After finishing with Helicopter, the crowds begun to leave the packed little room that we had been watching in. But we hung about where we were, and a couple of minutes later, the band re-appeared to finish in pure style with The Pioneers.
Last time I saw them play, I decided that Bloc Party were my favourite live band ever. The same is still true, except that I’ll be impressed if I ever see them play a gig as intimate and awesome as the one I just saw in New York City.

Bloc Party - Webster Hall - 08/06/08

Hunting for Witches
Positive Tension
Waiting for The 7.18
Price of Gasoline
So Here We Are
The Prayer
Once a Future King
Mercury
This Modern Love
Song for Clay (Disappear Here)
Banquet
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Like Eating Glass
I Would Die 4 U
Flux
She’s Hearing Voices
Helicopter
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The Pioneers