Another trip odyssey into the Big Apple.

Late Monday afternoon, I get a call from one of my buddies that he is going to a comedy club Tuesday night and wanted to know if I would be willing to go. He said that we would have dinner after the going to the club and he even offered to pay my cover charge. All I had to do was pay for drinks. Seeing that my calendar was open, and he was paying for the cover, I agreed to go.

I decided that I would take the train into New York City and in an effort to kill two birds with one stone, told this same friend that I wanted to see some dead bodies. Of course he wanted to go too. So we made plans and called it a night. On Tuesday morning, someone (aka dad) kindly reminded me that my car inspection has been expired. For more than thirty days. Oops. What can I say, beyond that last month was really hectic and I have only recently started to feel de-stressed from last semester's trials.

I made a quick visual check for the obvious safety flags and took the car to the garage later that morning. I would have passed with flying colors, except for a few minor safety issues, therefore, my car failed. They had also kindly removed the inspection sticker off my windshield, so I can't even pretend that I had it inspected. In a huff and with two hours before I had to catch the train into Manhattan, I drove to the nearest auto parts store, bought two silly light bulbs and drove home. Then, I proceeded to replace the bulbs over the license plate, jabbing myself in the thumb with a screwdriver because I was carelessly rushing.

That slowed me down for quite a bit (not to mention the 10 minute swearing session and then going inside to find a bandaid). Then, I had to remove both back tires to adjust the drum brakes. After this adjustment on both sides, I threw the tires back on and with 30 minutes to train catching time, drove back to the garage. Where they took the car, turned on the lights, engaged the emergency brakes and charged me another ten bucks. Yep, my car failed because my e-brake wasn't adjusted properly and the license plate bulbs were out.

Now, I am not a mechanic, and normally, I trust my mechanic to do the job right, but with the impending deadline of catching a train, these guys were trying to milk me for money. They wanted to change my brakes and charge me $15 for replacing my burnt out bulbs. I was livid over their underhanded tactics. In the same amount of time I spent arguing with them over unnecessary charges, I was able to take the tires off, adjust the breaks and put the tires back on. And I saved $85 in labor charges. If I had paid them, that would have ended my night right there.

I made it to the train station with five minutes to spare. Then my friend called me and told me he had missed the train. At this point, it was 3 pm and I was really not pleased with another setback. I told him to just get on the next train and we would figure things out. The next train was another half an hour away and arrived at Penn Station forty five minutes later. With that realization, I resigned myself to not seeing any dead bodies at the body exhibit in the South Street Seaport.

When we finally arrived at Penn station, my friends insisted that we try to make it downtown to see the exhibit anyway, so we hopped onto a subway train and traveled downtown. Considering that I have heard certain controversial stories about fetuses and sliced up human remains, I wasn't sure if I would be horrified or amazed at what I saw. I still wanted to see this gruesome display regardless of how I felt and in spite of the hefty entrance fee. When I finally walked out (they closed at 7 and I had to be escorted out) I realized that I was amazed, intrigued and fascinated by the contents of an ordinary sack of bones and water that we consist of.

I can't begin to describe how it feels to realize that this is no plastic model but once a real live, breathing individual who walked on this earth. I couldn't move myself to touch these once living humans either. I don't know if it is out of respect for the dead or just some other ineffable reason that I can't explain.

*NOTE* For those owners of weak stomachs, skip the next three paragraphs. *NOTE*

I was amazed by the sight of the circulatory system without flesh, skin, or any organs suspended seemingly in mid air and I was impressed by the process in which they preserved the microscopic capillaries of the human body. I could not believe how complex the human skull is. I was disturbed by the sight of cigarette smoke poluted lungs and how the tar clung to everything. (If you smoke, make sure you go to the respiratory section and see those lungs!) To be honest, most of the displays were reminiscent of slides or photographs from any anatomy or biology book. I learned what the sciatica muscle is and where it is located, and I finally understand what it means to have a torn meniscus or have a herniated disc. I even saw the supposed bones I may have fractured in the past.

When I finally approached the room that contained the fetuses, I entered with a bit of trepidation, wondering what abominations I would see. Mostly, I saw various stages of the fetus development. Once again, it felt like I was looking at text book images. The centerpeice in that room for fetuses is the limbless torso of the female body displaying all of her reproductive organs in unembarrased detail as well as the six month old baby forever preserved in stasis in her womb. I thought I would be shocked or disgusted by that sight. I wasn't. Which kind of surprised me. I could not grasp within my mind that this torso was a pregnant woman who died while carrying her baby. It was kind of like looking at a cutout model because you couldn't see any limbs or a head. In this culture that I have grown up in, I would have expected the doctor to make some serious attempt at saving the baby's life. Perhaps the doctors did try and were just too late. I wonder though what they may have permitted in the interests of science.

I'll be honest and say that the thing which did skeeve me out was seeing the cross section of someone they had sliced in half vertically from nose to navel and then further on down. I wasn't expecting to see an example of my particular organ sliced lengthwise like that. Looking at some twenty odd male bodies with full genitalia didn't faze me as much as looking at that one poor guy.





Then we hopped back on the subway and headed back uptown to the Gotham Comedy Club. I wasn't aware that it also was located south of Penn Station, so we made it there well before the check in time. There were a number of up and comers interspersed with veterans (though you could tell the difference in how polished they were in setting up the jokes) and they weren't supported by a very energetic or enthusiastic crowd, I have to say. The usual foul mouthed, potty humor elicited the most laughter from the crowd. There were jokes about marriage and what their folks said to them when they finally were engaged.

I enjoyed some of their jokes and if I were giving awards, I would give them to a woman named Carolina and a man named Troy. She kept it clean as she made fun of girls from Jersey and all guys trying to hit on hot women. He made fun of rednecks, a certain president currently in office, midgets and a certain Catholic Pope currently on the Holy See. The most memorable moment was at the top of the show when the first comedian by the name of Wali was on stage and someone had a seizure less than three feet in front of him. Nothing like having a medical emergency in the audience to liven things up and make it almost impossible to recover from.

We closed the evening with a midnight dinner at some forgettable Texan based barbeque restaurant down the block from club where the food was not so great but the prices were really low. The wait staff kept pushing us to purchase expensive mixed drinks (I guess that's how they stay in business). We stayed there for an hour or so and then it was back to Penn station for the ride home.

In all, I was pleased that we didn't wreck our plans despite the setbacks and that I was able to enjoy a night out on the town without the compulsion to find a female to enjoy it with. I may do this more often in the future. Total cost for the night minus inspection charge and car repair parts: $12 round trip train ticket + $2 coffee on train ride + $10 six trip metro card + $24.50 exhibit fee + $12 for drinks with tip ($4.50 for 10 oz. of ice with a hint of soda? WTH?) + $19 dinner = $79.50 Ok. Maybe I won't do this more often. LOL.