A part of downtown

On the bus ride to our hotel, I tried in vain to sleep as Wynene snapped away out of the large window to our right. The landscape was flat and barren the entire way and the sky was overcast. 

Once we arrived and dropped our bags in our room at Hotel Loftleider, we wandered downstairs to sample the breakfast buffet despite our pure exhaustion. I looked forward to some foreign fare and was not disappointed. Along with the some of the staple buffet foods we would expect at home (toast, rolls, wedges of fruit, and containers dispensing a variety of cereals) we also came across little dishes of pickled herring, dips and sauces of questionable origin, and our personal fave: cottage cheese from a tube. Why Wynene and I didn't ever take a camera downstairs for the first four breakfasts we experienced there to get a photo of one of the most amusing things we saw in Iceland, I cannot explain. 

A large tube sat on a small plate, its cap removed and some chunky white cottage cheese just stealing its way out of the opening from the last person who squeezed it. I never ever thought presentation would affect my appetite. But the fact that this huge tube resembled a foot cream to me yet dispensed something edible was more than I could stomach. It was comical of course, especially since everyone was appearing to abide by the rules of conduct that insist you squeeze from the bottom.  And I sort of pride myself about not being particularly squeamish, especially concerning food, but there was no way I could eat that. And I really like cottage cheese. I just wasn't feeling adventurous or interested in experiencing it for its novelty. I was simply repulsed. I have to say though that it was very amusing to come down to breakfast a couple days later to find that someone had squeezed the tube from the middle. Just ain't right.

After breakfast we rode the elevator back up to the fourth floor and crashed, the two of us probably snoozing for about three hours. We awoke, far more refreshed than previously, and decided that we would walk to downtown Reykjavik. Now, it was bitterly cold the entire time we spent in Iceland (yes, Wy, bitterly) and the walk was about a half hour, but when we finally reached it, one of the first things we did was step into a quaint little cafe with an American barista who, about two years ago, moved to Iceland from California! 

But I liked the packaging. It reminded me of the boxes for Brillo Pads. It was supposed to be black licorice but tasted like pure sin. They had huge, economy boxes, too. I was horrified.

Wynene, you're not fooling anyone--those were absolutely disgusting

Day 1: Cottage Cheese from a Tube and I Get Mistaken for Wynene's Boyfriend

We'd arrived around 7:30 am Icelandic time, tired, hungry, a little disoriented. The airport was almost entirely deserted. One of the first things we did was hit up the Duty Free to check out weird Icelandic treats and alcohol.

Of the Conchords

I've told this story a couple of times but I'm gonna do it again for those of you who didn't hear it. 

Picture it: I'm bustling around work as usual, the cafe/restaurant packed with hungry patrons eager for their bottomless mimosas and spinach and three cheese omelettes. Expertly weaving among the tables on my way to print a check for one of my tables, I look up at the growing number of people waiting at the door to be seated, and he catches my eye immediately. Undoubtedly, it was him. My heart begins thudding instantly. I have to talk to him, I say to myself. I just have to. It was strange because I waited on a pretty famous person once and looked at her with wonder a couple of times but didn't get all giddy about it. But I was so excited to see this guy that I knew without a doubt that I would talk to him. 

So I worked in my head what I would say to him and then approached.

"Excuse me," I said. "May I ask you a question?"

He turned to me. "Sure."

"Are you an actor?"

"Yes."

HUGE grin on my face. I could feel it. "Were you on Flight of the Conchords?" I beamed.

"Yes, I was. I'm in the season finale. I play the concierge in the hotel at the end of the second season," he replied.

"Weren't you also in the first season? You played Quincy Jones's brother?"

"Yeah," he smiled. I think he was a little surprised.

Then of course I did what I thought I'd never do. I gushed. "I watch Flight of the Conchords all the time! I totally recognized you! I don't have a TV but I have the first season on my computer that a coworker put on my desktop right before I left California and I've watched the season countless times and I sent my friends at home a couple of videos from youtube last summer and now they're fans and it was the only thing I watched for the first two months when I moved here and I just think it's a fabulous show the other day I was googling Flight of the Conchords Merchandise and was led to an HBO website and I was able to watch the premier episode of the second season but I'll have to wait til it comes out on dvd," I breathed.

"Yeah, it's a great show," he answered, smiling. "I won't tell you how this season ends, but I think season 2 is even better than the first. They're really coming into their own now."

"Well, my name's D______ and it was great to meet you," I smiled, shaking his hand with supreme pleasure. 

"Yeah, nice to meet you too," he said.

I was hoping he would be seated in my section but wasn't. I was a little disappointed, but I ran his food to him and his family while my coworker took care of them. Now, he appeared in just one episode in the first season for a total of probably five minutes. But like I told him, I've watched the whole season over and over and over again. That's why I instantly recognized him. He scams the band's manager when he sells him "stereo equipment," which turns out to be just boxes of sawdust. He claims to be the brother of famed record producer Quincy Jones and offers to sell Murray hot pants as well.

So after our exchange I'm positively floating through the restaurant, renewed by the chance encounter. I'm giving exceptional service at this point, smiling genuinely at my tables and being really patient and forgiving when they're acting like idiots. 

Towards the middle of their meal, I get it in my head that I would like to have a picture with this man before he and his family leaves, but decide that I will approach him discreetly and request a picture outside so as not to draw attention to him and possibly embarrass him.  I grab my camera from my bag, stuff it in my apron and watch for my opportunity. Once they've paid, his wife takes their two daughters to the bathroom and he's standing in front of the coffee bar waiting for them, his arms loaded with kids' stuff like small jackets and coloring books. Maybe this is a good time to ask, since he's alone and can talk a bit. 

"I just wanted to say again it was so nice to meet you." I grinned widely at him. 

"Are you an actress?" he asked me.

"Oh, I came out here to try everything," I said quickly, trying to change the subject. "I moved out her nine months ago."

"From where?"

"California."

"How do you like it here?" he asked.

"Oh I love it," I said and he smiled. 

"Yeah, it's great up here," he agreed. "Have you been to the Cloisters?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. I live very close to Fort Tryon Park."

So we chatted for a couple of minutes. He told me he was from New York, born and raised, and we talked about how cool Inwood and Washington Heights was. I asked him if the show was filmed throughout Manhattan. The outside of the guys' apartment is filmed in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, but that everything else is taped throughout the city.  

"I was wondering if I could get a picture with you?" I asked shyly. "We could take it outside so we don't attract so much attention?"

"Oh... sure," he responded, surprised. "I'm flattered."

By this time his family returned. "She's a Conchords fan," he told his wife. "We're going outside to take a picture."

And that's just what we did. We both stopped the first person walking by, the guy snapped our picture, and he shook my hand once more and asked me my name again, which I gave eagerly. 

He was so nice!

This experience is on the list of the top 5 coolest things that have happened to me in NYC. Ever.

  

Oh What a Night

So I'm going to change the names of the people I mention in here just for their own privacy, though no one at work knows I keep a blog. 

Last week I was invited by a couple of coworkers to see a No Doubt tribute band and a Sublime tribute band in the city. I've never seen a tribute band and am, admittedly, pretty skeptical of them but was game anyway, simply because I take every opportunity to go out here and experience all that New York has to offer. 

The three of us had agreed to meet ahead of time at Madeleine's apartment in Chelsea for bloody marys before the show. I brought the really cheap vodka (Georgi brand), Kim provided the celery and olives and Madeleine had the mary mix and some delicious little snacks to share. So we hung out a couple hours, sipping marys, gnoshing on chips and hummus, looking up stuff on youtube and waiting for Madeleine's friend to come by so we could all go together. Brian arrived, had a drink with us, then we all bundled up and headed out into the snow for the club.

When we arrived, the No Doubt tribute band was already into their second song. We purchased our tickets and stepped into a dark room with some seating in the back of the club, a large floor, and a bar on either side. There were probably 50 or 60 people there, and many of them were in the seats in the back, so there was plenty of room to mill about and get a good spot right at the stage. They were a six piece, no horns. A drummer who was playing shirtless, his lips thickly smudged with black lipstick like Adrian Young used to do. There was a female bass player, two guitarists, a girl on a keyboard and then the frontwoman, a girl with long, bleach blonde hair, a black bustier, black striped pants and shiny red docs with zippers up the sides. I stood there, trying to adjust to the idea of watching a band, a group of people who were really into their performance and music, playing another band's songs with such enthusiasm. Towards the end of their set, to prep the crowd for the Sublime tribute band, the No Doubt band performed "I Saw Red," a song originally by Brad Nowell of Sublime and Gwen Stephani of No Doubt. For this song, the keyboardist grabbed a mike and walked to the center of the stage, singing Brad's parts with the Gwen-like girl. Why don't they just have the guy from the Sublime tribute band come out here and sing with her? I wondered. In any case it was a pretty good performance and afterwards we bought a couple beers and waited for the next band.

The frontman for the Sublime tribute band looked very much like Brad. He had shaved, dirty blonde hair, was pudgy, and wore a wife-beater. There was also a keyboardist in this band, as well as a drummer and bass player. No horns again, although Sublime was really just composed of the three guys. Still, there were a few songs that required a trumpet but were just filled with guitar instead. 

I have to admit they were fabulous. "Brad" sang just like Brad. Every song was perfect. We were all dancing and having a great time, Madeleine and I shouting along to each song. At one point, Madeleine whispers something to Kim, who starts laughing, then she whispers the same thing to Brian, who's laughing too, and pretty soon the three of them are dying of laughter. The performance was loud, so in order to be heard we had to scream at each other. Looking over at them, I shouted "I want to hear funny things!" and at the very moment I yelled this, there was a break in the song, so everyone heard me, including the band. "You didn't expect that break did you?" "Brad" asked me, laughing. I was completely embarrassed of course, but instead of looking sheepish I started singing back to them on the stage. "Load up the bong, crank up the song, let the informer call 911!" "Are you Lindsay? You look like Lindsay!" "Brad asked me. "No, I'm D______!" I called back, and then they resumed playing. It was pretty funny. We really enjoyed their set, even though we did have to fight for our little space with this girl who was completely in love with the bass player. I was standing right in front of him the whole time, and throughout the show she was desperately trying to get his attention, including buying him beers and placing them on the stage and touching his foot when she had the chance. "She does know that these guys aren't really Sublime, doesn't she?" Madeleine joked with me. Seriously this girl was acting like John Lennon was on that stage. At one point a friend of hers lifted this girl up and she got on stage, but was immediately escorted off and was almost removed from the building. "Don't kick her out. Let her stay," the band insisted. Okay. She got to stay. 

After their set, they went back stage of course, and then went onto the floor, talking to a few people. We approached them and introduced ourselves and talked with them a bit. "Are you guys from California?" I asked "Brad." "Yeah, we're from San Diego," he replied. "I'm from California too!" I gushed, and we chatted a little about the weather at home and San Francisco. "So where's the party at?" "Brad" asked us after awhile. "Trailer Park," Madeleine said, and gave them directions. They told us they would meet us there, so we bundled up again and braved the snow once more as we headed to the bar. On the way we mused a bit about the show and agreed that they probably wouldn't meet us at Trailer Park.

But they did. We'd been sitting at the bar for about twenty minutes when they walked in. We had a drink with them, talked a bit more. At one point however, "Brad" puts his hand on my leg. "You wanna hang out after this?" he asked me. "Sure," I replied. They didn't know where they were going but he put my number in his phone and then called me so I would have his number. "I'll call you in half an hour and let you know where we'll be," he said, and then they took off. I was really surprised at all this, but did want to go out, so Kim agreed that she would go with me and act as my "wing man" she said, and Madeleine headed home. After a bit of going back and forth on the phone with "Brad", including him saying something like "...all on us--drinks, hotel..." I stopped. "Hotel?" I said. "What did you say?" I couldn't understand him because there was a lot of background noise on his end, but I knew I wouldn't be going to a hotel with anyone. "You guys gotta tell me where you're gonna be otherwise my friend's gonna go home," I told him. "Let her go home," he said, and went on, saying something about accommodating me, but again I couldn't hear him well. 

Finally he calls me again and tells me the address of a karaoke bar, so Kim and I hail a cab and meet them in midtown. They bought us drinks and we all stood around talking casually. Not much was happening except that Kim and I were getting drunk. However, at one point as I was returning from the bathroom, I saw "Brad" with his hands on Kim's waist. I wasn't upset; what I felt immediately was some embarrassment and surprise. When I approached them they parted, which didn't matter much to me anyway, it was just now I was feeling like a third wheel and it was awkward. After another drink Kim and I decided we were going home, and "Brad" walked out with us. I simply said good bye to them when we stepped outside and was on my way to 42nd to catch the train, assuming they were going to hang out with each other. Once I saw a street sign and noticed I was going in the wrong direction, I had to walk back and pass them, which was pretty embarrassing. They were still standing outside of the club, holding each other and here I came along again because I was walking in the wrong direction. 

Frustrated to find the subways closed in a few places, and still battling the snow that had been steadily falling for hours, I finally just grabbed a cab to Penn Station to hop on the train from there. I was feeling sick as I stepped on the train and at one point was trying to breathe slowly and stay calm because I thought for sure I was going to throw up. I was even trying to plan how I would throw up, hoping to vomit right at the moment the train was pulling up at the next stop so that I could stick my head out and heave on the station platform once the automatic doors slid open rather than in the car itself. But the nausea passed somehow and I fell into a deep sleep, waking up drowsily three stops past my house and realizing vaguely my mistake at the fourth stop. When I discovered what I did, I was very annoyed with myself. I had to get off the train and walk to the opposite side of the tracks to wait for the next one to go back down four stops to my apartment.

I didn't get home until around 4:30 am. I fell asleep immediately, only waking up briefly at 6:30 to call Kim and wake her up for work. Later on in the afternoon, hung over and lying in bed again, I received a text from Kim. She felt really bad. "Did you guys make out or something?" I text her. They had and she felt very guilty. "I'm such a terrible friend right now and an awful wing man!" she wrote. But in all honesty, I told her, I wasn't angry at all. I told her I thought I should be, but really I was just a little embarrassed and surprised, surprised because I'm not sure when all of this occurred. If I'd really been upset, I would have told her and I wouldn't hide it from you guys either. I'm not ready to date anyone and wasn't particularly attracted to this guy.

It's like I told her at the end of our texting, it was just that last quirky detail to cap off a strange and eventful night. This particular part along with the other unexpected details of the whole night made for an unforgettable story, which is what I'm always hoping for every time I step out the door.