The undate

So, by now, I'm sure some of you are wondering how the date went. As alluded to by the title, the date for coffee didn't happen. As I was getting ready to travel into the city, she called me to tell me that she couldn't make it. She told me that she would call me back. I guess I wasn't the only one with cold feet.

The reason I haven't gotten around to writing this update is because I've been laid low by a pretty serious sinus infection. I spent most of Friday and Saturday in bed gasping for breath and feeling sorry for myself. I'm pretty much on the road to recovery at this point. I will refrain from describing the details of how I know I'm recovering. For those who have had a sinus infection, it's no longer green.

Instead, I will tell you about what I did after learning that the tentative date was off. Rather than waste the night off from work, I went into the city and met up with some friends who were having dinner at a place called Eight Mile Creek. It's an austrailian themed restaurant that has a very cozy environment. (Read: Hole in the wall that has a nice atmosphere.) It's on Mulberry street, a few blocks south of Houston street. I made the mistake of thinking it was a short walk from Canal St. It was interesting walking up Little Italy with the feast going on.

For the meat eaters out there, I can say that the kangaroo meat was very tender, probably as good as a five star steak (which I have had the opportunity to sample). The portions are about the same too (about four ounces before cooking). I kept wanting to ask for seconds. It was also a bit pricy, but this is New York City, so the prices may have been in line with others in the area.

I also had the ginger pudding for dessert. It was also a bit on the small side. It tasted ok, but at that point, I had a few drinks, so my sense of taste may have been addled. Speaking of which, I had forgotten how much it costs to actually pay for drinks instead of going up to an open bar. I have been very spoiled. The tab for the meal came out to about $75 including my share of the drinks.

After dinner (around midnight), as we all went our separate ways, I realized I didn't know where the nearest subway station was. I wasn't going to stand on pride and asked one of my friends to point out where the 1,2, and 3 trains were. (I took the LIRR into the city.) This was a mistake to ask someone more inebriated than I was. He pointed me in the direction of Houston street.

I wandered uptown until I hit Bleeker street. Then I wandered along Lafayette street, crossed 4th street, realized I was on the wrong side of Broadway, so I turned left and walked by Washington Square park. There I wandered by some NYU students. Oddly enough, as I caught snippets of their conversation, I wanted to keep on listening, but like most natives of the city, their pace was far to quick for me to keep up with and not appear to be following them.

Did I mention I was addled? I walked right by the 6 train entrance and never noticed. I kept walking until I arrived at 7th avenue. I thought there was a subway entrance nearby (Christopher St.), but didn't see it. So, I turned north walking until I arrived at the 14th street subway entrance. I think I may have walked through the (in)famous West Village and past St. Vincent's Hospital on my way north. From the 14th street subway entrance, I made it safely home.

An interesting night spent with friends followed by a walk I would never have attempted if I had been sober. I had the opportunity to walk myself sober. I suppose this girl having cold feet that night gave me the opportunity to experience a part of New York I would not have gone out to see. As I ambled around on my way home, I felt like I was in a little bubble touring a different part of the world.