Two Different Cities

Last Tuesday I had to dramatically opposite experiences, both here, and both tell plenty about this city. The first one was a farewell for one of our team mates, and for some bizarre reason the people at the office decided to take her to Dave and Busters. I have never been a fan of arcades, or video games, probably my lack of grace, equilibrium and a long attention span, I have just never been able to play arcade games. Not me, not ever. I went to the place located in 42nd Street, right just west of 7th Avenue. It is probably the most horrid space in the entire island. You walk half a block full of LCD displays, adds, lights and bulbs that flash in every imaginable hue. The Red Lobster is right in the intersection of 42nd and 7th, and the one thing that kept capturing my attention was this huge lobster in the facade, like the Earth it kept turning on an axis and opening and closing its claws.

To get into D&b you pass all this horridness and walk into an empty lobby, go up a couple flight of stairs, pass a Ruby Tuesday's and finally you enter the Dave and Busters. It is at that time that you leave Manhattan and you enter America, this generic America where everything everywhere looks exactly the same. The drinks, the space, the people, the menus and the food. For the 2 hours I stayed there, talking to the customers and making nice, I could have been in Fargo, or Atlanta. The place was so generic that the only thing that kept me thinking I was in NY was that I had passed the New Victory Theater on my way into the space. It was horrible, the food was bad, the drinks were weak. I even played some of the games and made enough points to exchange for something at the end of the night. When I walked into the little store where you choose your price I saw some Care Bears, and knowing that there is a Mexican Care bear, called Amigo Care Bear, I thought i will get the Argentine one. They did not have it, so I gave my points to L and she got herself a little cute blue thingy for her desk.

Finally at 9 we all left D&B, I was not very hungry, but needed some chow before going to bed. M decided to take me to this sushi place he likes which happened to be somewhere in the path to my hotel - on the other side of town. We walked to Korea Town, on 32nd and Broadway and made our way East on 32nd. It is a strip full of Asian places, so I thought,we are going into one of these. No, it was not to be, we walked into building in the middle of the street and take the elevator to the 3rd floor. As the doors opened, we reach a second lobby and we open the only door there, and as by magic we were transported into one of those uber cool bars/restaurants/Karaoke place( this was Korea town after all) you see in the movies.

The space was all white and grey, the booths were not booths but benches separated by white drapes that created and defined the tables and the spaces, the bar as long and sleek. Every single kind of alcohol you could wish for was offered, and in the middle of the room, a huge Buddhist bell, and a transparent floor. Everyone there was Asian, everyone, I stuck out like an alien. Anyhow we sit down, they bring us the many menus, we order 4 rolls and some drinks, me being the non Asian, they forget to bring my drink, but they make up my bringing a couple 20 minutes later and they most weird sushi I have ever had was served. The rice was red, M said that red rice is the rice of the poor, but that it makes really good sushi,and each roll had more ingredients than I an remember. It was all good, even the one that was flamed on its way to the table. We ate the sushi and after a admiring the space, we paid the bill and I headed back to my hotel.

These are the 2 New Yorks, the one of the tourists who know no better, and the one of the locals who maybe know a little too much.