Washing Hands Without Soap

             A couple of Thursdays ago I was on the west side of town and my eyes became drawn to the grand opening of a new IHOP location. Although IHOP is nothing more than a glorified diner, in Manhattan an IHOP seems like a duck out of water. The only other two locations I know of in the city are up in Harlem and a few blocks away from Union Square on the east side. Other chained franchises such as McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts fit the city like a glove, but something about an IHOP stands out. I didn't have time to go in on that particular day, but knowing I had to be back in the city on that upcoming Saturday to run some errands, I planned make that the day I would test out this new location.

             IHOP, short for The International House of Pancakes, has been around since 1958, starting in California, and today has over fifteen-hundred locations across the nation. In 2007 they consumed the Applebee's franchise and are owned by the combined forces which is officially named DineEquity. They're best known for their pancakes, but over the years they've expanded their menu to comply with the traditional foods eaten at lunch and dinner by Americans. I started my day in midtown with grey and threatening skies overhead. Cutting through the city using 53rd St. I stumbled upon a small alley which had a sign labeling it 6 1/2 Ave. I couldn't tell if it was a real street name or some type of joke. The sign looked pretty real to me. Downtown trains on the west side were all messed up due to weekend construction, so my 1 train actually skipped the Houston St. stop I needed and went all the way down to Chambers St. where I needed to switch over to the uptown side to get back. Once I finally reached my stop and was at the corner of Varick and Downing, the new IHOP was only steps away. When you enter you don't get into the restaurant part right away. There's a small waiting room with a hostess desk you must approach first and then you're brought into the actual restaurant section. It's actually a great idea because who wants to be eating their food at their table and watching people stare back at them on the line, using their eyes to say, "Hurry up with your food - I want to sit down and eat". This method allows patrons to eat in peace without angry eyes piercing through their skin like laser beams.

             The restaurant has a weird zigzag shape compared to the usual rectangular shapes of most dine-in eateries. For a place in the city which could get very crowded, it didn't seem like there would be enough tables to accommodate big crowds during peak hours. The time I was going was a lazy Saturday afternoon, so I was seated immediately and there were plenty of open tables left. Basically the entire wait staff had tattoos rolling down their arms; either saying something about the IHOP hiring guidelines or perhaps just a sign of the times. I can't put my finger on it, but having a guy with tattoos in a white shirt and blue apron bringing you fluffy pancakes also seems like a duck out of water. The waiters and waitresses hung out by the kitchen door and were discussing anything except pancakes. I had to make eye contact with my waiter so he could come back over and take my order. I felt bad about interrupting his conversation. I went with the never-ending pot of coffee (which actually turned out to be two cups for me) and kept it simple with the pancakes - just three regular with a side of bacon. The menu features all sorts of pancakes, from traditional blueberry or strawberry to cheesecake-filled which racks up to nearly two thousand calories. I was imagining those cheesecake pancakes in my mouth, but the intelligent part of my brain directed me away from the calorie-nuke. Even though I ordered my pancakes with a side of bacon, I received a side of breakfast sausages instead. I guess IHOP knows whats best for me.

             While I was eating two cops came in and sat down at the table next to me. I never thought I would see pancakes and live ammunition within the same field of view, but it happened. Before leaving I wanted to check out the bathroom which is located on the downstairs level. When I first entered the restaurant I felt there wasn't enough tables for a city-located establishment, but then the downstairs made things clear for me. There was the mother-load of tables located downstairs, probably even more than the upstairs. Since it wasn't busy, the downstairs tables weren't being used and basically all the lights were off, but if they did receive bigger crowds, then they would be able to accommodate them. The bathroom itself was quite clean, but there was one small detail missing when I went to wash my hands - there was no soap!! Both liquid soap dispensaries were bone-dry. I wouldn't have been surprised if there never had been any soap during the grand opening period. If there was some soap previously, there would've been at least some bubbling foam or something seeping out, but this was bone-dry as in no soap ever. I could've reported this to the policemen upstairs, but figuring it was the grand opening and everyone was getting used to the nuisances of the establishment, I let it go, hoping one day they'll get around to putting soap in the soap dispensary. On my way out as I passed the hostess desk there were two more cops standing there and ordering from the take-out menu. This IHOP must be the new "Go-To" for the nearby precinct.

             With a belly full of pancakes, and breakfast sausages I didn't order, I figured I walk it off towards the water by the west side piers. I strolled along the cobblestone blocks of old New York until I made my way to West St., which appears the be the only strip of real estate in Manhattan that's not experiencing a boom. After passing a former gentlemen's club with no ATMs inside and a deserted diner that's too frightening to peek inside, I crossed the street and got a great view of the Freedom Tower which seems nearly finished. I spent a couple of minutes by the water, but once those grey skies finally let down some raindrops, I knew it was time to head back home. I didn't want to have to deal with the construction fiasco of the 1 train again, so my plan was to catch the E train in front of the IFC Theater and take that across town to transfer to the 6. While en route via Bleecker Street the raindrops let up and tourist crowds built up along the way.

             Walking by small eateries and ice cream shops, I was hit with this sudden urge for bubble tea. It's a flavored Chinese drink with soft jelly/gummy-bear like beads at the bottom. The straws for bubble tea are always wide so you can suck up and eat the beads. I was hoping I would find one of these on Bleecker Street, but I was having no luck. They're all over the place in Chinatown, but I really didn't feel like going out of my way to get it. It would've been a great cherry on top for the IHOP experience, but as I drew near the West 4th train station, it was looking like I was going home without my bubble tea. Then as I was about to head down the stairs for the subway, my head turned left and I caught a series of Chinese lettering. I had no idea what they meant, but in English the store has the word bakery on it. In Chinatown, all the Chinese bakeries serve bubble tea. This Fay Da Bakery knew I was in need of bubble tea and it was almost as if it magically appeared as I was about to leave the city as a bubble tea loser. Had I taken the 1 train instead of walking to the E train, this would've been the case. In the end, the construction fiasco worked out well for me. There was no mention of bubble tea in the front window, but I knew they had to be serving it. I went inside and said the words "Bubble Tea" to the lady behind the counter about three or four times before she picked up on what I wanted. You can get bubble tea in all sorts of flavors, unfortunately the lady didn't hear me when I asked for mango, so she gave me generic brown tea, which was still okay.

               If you want something sometimes, it will appear.........

St. Patrick's Day in Afghanistan

             In all the years I've lived in New York, I never actually experienced the annual St. Patrick's Day Parade in Manhattan. Usually the day landed on a weekday when I would be in either work or school, or the weather would be too cold to be standing outdoors for so many hours. This year the holiday fell on a Saturday anyways, and the mild winter we've been having made for a pleasant day for a parade. Even the morning of, I was still debating on whether to go or not. If I was going to go, I needed to leave early and get down there well before the parade's start time in order to secure a good viewing spot against a rail. With hopes of seeing someone trashed and puking in the street afterwards, I finally decided it was a go. I grabbed a quick granola bar from 7-11 and took the subway into the city.

             When I was on the subway I needed to pick where was it that I should get off at. The parade starts at E. 44th st. and heads up 5th ave. until 86th st. There were two others on the subway dressed in the green gear headed to the parade, and overhearing their conversation they were planning to get off at 59th st. It seemed like a good idea to me, so that's where I got off as well. By time I reached 5th ave. it was around 9:45am and there weren't many people lined up at all along the street. I made sure to take up a prime spot against the railing and was going to plant myself there like a statue till the parade's 11am start time. After a few minutes I turned around a noticed several hundred people bottled up behind some rails on the corner. I was confused; were those people lining up for the parade too? Was the spot I was in going to be cleared soon and those people would take the prime spots? Then a sudden head turn to the left and I saw the gigantic Apple logo on the building behind me. Those people weren't lined up for the parade, they were up earlier than I was for the new iPad3, which had just come out the day before.

            The Apple Store had its own security detail and the entire front was gated off from pedestrian traffic. Every fifteen minutes, an Apple associate would come out of the store to take in five patrons at a time. When it was someone's turn, the look on their face was as if they just won a million bucks. Soon enough the crowds started gathering and next to me of course I had to have one of the worst families right next to me. There was a husband and wife and two pesky kids aged about six and four. The kids didn't even want to be there and kept fidgeting the whole time. Then the dad had the bright idea to give the boy a big Irish flag and told him to start waiving it around. I estimated the amount of time that flag was going to hit and stab me to around thirty. Once the kids wanted a snack or something to eat, one parent would go to the store to bring stuff back. I could've used something to eat too since I only had the granola bar in my stomach, but in no way was I going to lose my spot. Since the crowds were getting fuller, the parent would have to push their way back to reclaim their place against the rail. By that time I probably had at least four out of the thirty pokes I thought I was going to get from that flag. With about twenty more minutes left till the parade start time, I noticed a mysterious black jeep with the window rolled down and a camera sticking out strolling by, with the camera pointed at the crowd. It was probably some type of anti-terrorism tool to read everyone's face in the crowd and matched the pictures of any known terrorists on record.

             In semi-relation to that, a few minutes later a large corrections bus drove by, probably on sight as a place to store anticipated drunken and disorderlies. On the news there was mention that the police were trying to make this a family-friendly parade and there were certainly cops all over the place; streets, subway stations, etc. After the corrections bus drove by, a smaller van came by passing out bags of potato chips. I was legitimately hungry and tried my best to catch one, but known were thrown close enough to my range. A few minutes before the parade was to start, a group of people walked alongside of the rails to hand out mini-Irish flags. It wasn't food, but I took one anyways. One thing I learned early on from the logistics of the traffic, was that the street wasn't completely shut down for the parade. At least where I was at, a busy crosstown street like 59th st., police would let traffic cross over 5th ave. all during the parade, which held it up several times. A few minutes after 11am, the vibration from the street and echos of bagpipes gave the signal that the parade was approaching. The first items on display were a number of Ford vehicles; Ford was one of the official sponsors of the parade. I couldn't believe what passes for a Ford Focus these days. I was surprised I was asked to head the parade, I have a Focus, and its even green!

             Once the horses showed up, then it was time for the real parade to begin. The biggest applause early on went to a pair of sanitation workers to where pushing trash cans. The next big buzz not too long after that was the appearance of New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Police Commissioner Ray Kelly. Both were walking together and had about twenty bodyguards on each side of the street in case someone wanted to throw a pie in their face. With that was also a handful of cops with plastic twisty-tie cuffs  ready to pounce on anyone daring to jump over the rail. There was small group across the street from where I was standing that seemed to be protesting the Catholic Church's stance on not allowing homosexuals to join the parade, but they didn't take any chances with the mayor. From there was a complete onslaught of all sorts of parade participants; army, navy, marines, air force, cops, correction's officers, firemen, state-troopers, high-school bands, college bands, bagpipe groups, boy scouts, Gaelic societies, more sanitation workers, and sometimes it seemed like thousands of people from some town in Upstate New York would be marching. They just kept coming and coming, it looked like this parade was never going to end. In about the three hour mark I was starving, my legs were cramped, and I had enough of those pesky kids next to me, so I decided to escape from my position along the rail. Even as I leaving, more and more of the parade kept continuing.

            With it being St. Patrick's Day, my ideal place to get something to eat was going to be a real Irish bar. I figured being in the city, that wouldn't be difficult at all. So I would walk a few blocks, then walk a few blocks, and every Irish bar I encounter was absolutely mobbed with lines out the door. My stomach was growling in hunger and I didn't have time for wait on some line. I figured I could at least get a Blarney Stone, they're all over the city like Starbucks. I kept heading east of the city in hopes of finding a place, but was getting no luck; they were all packed (with firemen most the time). My journey took me to 1st ave. with no further east to go but into the East River. I was somewhat surprised to see the named the Queensborough Bridge after former New York Mayor Ed Koch. The city was an absolute toilet under his tenure, can't see why he gets a bridge, but whatever. I didn't want to continue on this wild goose chase any further, so I told myself I'll just go into the first anything that serves food. I went back to 2nd ave. and encountered the Afghan II Kebab House. The sign gave me the impression there was an Afghan Kebab House Part 1 somewhere lurking in the city. It was the polar opposite of an Irish bar to have a beer and a shepard's pie, but under the circumstances it was going to have to do. I started out with an sambosa as an appetizer. It's a fried turnover filled with ground beef, herbs, and spices, then topped in their minted yogurt sauce. For my main lunch dish I went with the lamb tikka kebab that's served with a side of jasmine rice and naan. Everything tasted excellent and silence inside the place allowed my ears to get re-adjusted from three hours of bagpipes.

             To make amends, next time there's an Afghanistan Day Parade, I'll go to a Blarney Stone.