*UPDATED* ... everything can chaaaahaannngeeah... *clasps fist to chest emotively* The Eagles had a point, you know. While standing on a "sidewalk" in SoHo, waiting for a "cab", one such minute was experienced. Kind of. It involved the downing of the last beverage (there's no such thing as a measure over there *hics*), melting in the humid heat; slick stretch Lincoln sliding by, containing God only knows who; sweaty sorts hollering "F*CK YOU, YOU F***ING A**HOLE!" arbitrarily from honking cars; attractive people passing by proffering the eye; squinting at a neon sign on 9th street spelling 'PARK' surrounded by flickering love hearts; the notion that maybe it would be easy to park it in New York for good; only to then hear an Irish voice behind me, asking for spare change.
But enough about intoxicated street side moments - what celebs did we see! *jazz hands* We thought we'd see a rake load considering the Tribeca Film Festival was on but, alas, the offerings were pithy. We saw the NakedCowboy's granny, the Naked Cow"girl" *winces*. There was also Spidermandown by the Staten Island Ferry (with the sweatiest crack ever. A nylon sheath in 90 degree heat is never a good combination), and his cousin, Batman, terrorising ladies on Times Square. Then we then saw RTE's Charlie Bird barrelling up 5th Avenue on Friday morning (he was too busy to say hello); Project Runway winner, Leanne Spring, drunk in a bar in the East Village on Friday night, and (weirdly enough) fellow contestant Stella Zotis (the mad 40-year-old, only made things consisting of laced up leather, had a boyfriend called Bones) stomping through Chelsea alone on Saturday night. Scintillating findings, eh?
My companion, Mr. Lenny, insists he saw David Letterman sitting in a diner off Broadway. This is plausible as The Late Show is recorded nearby on 53rd street. In fact, if you're ever in the area, hover around the corner of Broadway and West 49th street - you'll most definitely be asked if you want to be an audience member. We were asked twice and had to decline as it's recorded from Monday through to Thursday. Raging.
We thought we'd definitely see a famous face enjoying the sun in Central Park on Saturday as there was a sea of people. Honestly, it looked like a gaggle of pink penguins gathering to procreate. However, the closest we got to an A-lister was overhearing a conversation between two pedicabbers which went something like this: Pedicab peddler A: "Hey, is it true you gave Robert De Niro a ride through the park yesterday?" Pedicab peddler B: "Yup".
This got us thinking about obtaining entrance to De Niro's sushi restaurant, Nobu, in Tribeca. True, it'd be stuuupidly expensive, but my lovely boss did say we could claim anything back that was for, eh, research purposes. So, was it hard getting in? Not at all, we just rang on Sunday morning and got a booking for that night. It was easy to find (get the 1 to Franklin Street station and walk one block to Hudson Street) and we were greeted by three beaming ladies. It's no wonder this place is a reputed celebrity hotspot; it was ridiculously dark, and there's a load of bamboo screens to hide behind. We were sure our assigned smily lady was going to hurry us behind one such screen, near the jacks, but she instead boldly parked us beside a window. In fact, us sweating excitedly and bumbling over the menu probably enticed Gael GarciaBernal's party into the eatery. They even requested a table beside us! OK, they were seated beside us by chance but I got to marvel at Mr. MotorcycleDiaries' massive forehead and DoloresFonzi's (his giddlefriend) ample bosoms, so that's all that matters.
Also at their table was Dana Delany. She plays Katherine Mayfair in Desperate Housewives. Random. A not so random addition to the proceedings was Bernal's Y tu Mama Tambien co-star, DiegoLuna. I'd love to say something wildly exciting happened but I'm not a hack in the habit of making things up (although, given this directionless perambulation, perhaps it's a tack worth considering), bar Luna's partner's breast making a regular near appearance over her sashimi - something Lenny found rather exciting as we were convinced, for a while, she was "the bird from Juno" avec boob job. As it transpires, it was actress Camila Sodi, who's a fair bit hotter than Ellen Page.
What else happened *drums fingers* - oh - Bernal went to the toilet. Lenny was promptly dispatched to the jacks to check out the goods, but - sadly - Bernal was zipping up just as he entered the "rest room". Given Bernal's swiftness, Lenny deduced that he's in possession of "an acorn". I reckon he simply wanted to check his appearance, as Fonzi was rearranging his hair like an overly-earnest mother hen. A recurring theme around the table, actually. The only female not preening their partner within an inch of his life was Dana Delany. She just sat there quietly, in baggy jeans and glasses, with a lone shopping bag between her feet. Probably also wondering what she was doing there.
After a feast of raw salmon spawn gracing eggy asparagus, hot spicy crab, blackened cod and slivers of something else eye-wateringly mysterious (if you don't like the sound of all that fishy mayhem, they also have a choice of trusty teriyaki dishes for $30 dollars on the back of the menu... which only came to our attention after ordering), it was back to the hotel (Comfort Inn Midtown, just off Times Square. Couldn't fault it at all, bar the semi-frosted glass door between the bedroom and bathroom. Surreptitiously perching oneself at the far side of the bowl, only to hear your boyfriend coo from the bed "IIII can still seeeee yooou!" doesn't make you feel wonderfully feminine) to search IMDB. It turns out Luna and Bernal were in town to premiere their latest film Rudo Y Cursi at Tribeca that evening. We still haven't the foggiest how Delany entered the equation later that night.
We tried to sly a few shots (of the only real celebrities we saw *sighs* - oh, bar a low flying plane on Monday morning. And GossipGirl's Chase Crawford shooting scenes for Twelve inside JFK that afternoon) inside the restaurant, but we'd make crappy paps. There's one of their feet, and the side of Bernal's forehead. That's about it. If you fancy seeing TimesSquare's Naked Cowgirl in all her golden glory, however, we might have some pictures for you tomorrow (Lenny forgot his camera cable today).
Things To Do: Use the subway - especially the ticket machines. They're self explanatory and you can get "4 rides for $7". Otherwise it's "$2 per ride". It's cheaper and faster than a taxi // See the Statue of Liberty via the Staten Island Ferry. It's free and spacious, whereas the boats to Liberty Island are filled to capacity, not unlike the coffin ships. You get to pay in the region of $15 for the pleasure (tickets can be purchased at the "castle" beside Battery park). Get the 1 Subway to the South Ferry Terminal to get the Staten Island Ferry. Battery Park and the boats to Liberty Island are to the far right of the terminal. You'll see the queue // Bring some form of official ID if you're thinking of heading to some late bars. They will always ask for ID, no matter how old and haggard you look. We got refused on a number of occaisions and not because we're little people // Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. Yet another free thrill and it's a chance to walk off the doughnuts // Consider saving your sheckles for a car to the airport, just ask your hotel if this is possible when you're checking out. You could get the subway but it takes a while and can be stressful with hoards of extra baggage (i.e. Old Navy bags). It might be nicer to spend an extra hour in the city and then get picked up possibly by a Lincoln (that's what our car was. Impressive). It cost $55 (including tolls and call out fee) and was worth every penny // If you decide to get a taxi from the airport to your accomodation, it's a fixed rate to anywhere in Manhattan - $45 + tolls. Make sure you join the queue (which moves quickly). Don't be lured away by someone mumbling "taxi?" as they're usually not official cab drivers and will charge whatever they please // Go into Tiffany on 5th Avenue (one block from Central Park end). You don't have to buy anything but it's worth taking the lift to any of the floors to hear the "elevator operator" perform his spiel (preferably the third floor - that's "Silver FAAASHIONS!") I dare you not to crack up // Try a bistro called Balthazar's on Spring Street (between Broadway and Crosby).
Things Not To Do: Don't bother staying on Staten Island for a wee gander (we didn't see much of interest, bar a sign for a stadium. But we were dealing with hangovers and had the collective attention span of a gnat). The ferrys go approximately every 20 to 30 mins and it can be a pain in the hoop waiting around for one // Do not engage anyone who bounds up to you on the street offering you a "free CD". They will then ask you for a "donation" and will call over their friends to cajole you out of $10. Politely decline repeatedly while striding purposefully away // Do not eat in Chelsea (especially a fish restaurant near the hotel *heaves*... Don't bother with the pick n' mix in FAO Schwartz - appearances can be very misleading. Three words - 'lowgrade', 'plastic' and 'jelly'.
