newark newark

I am in New York City right now, staying at The Time Hotel on Broadway. The only hotel I know that lets you pick the color of your bed sheets. Mine, of course, are blue.

Earlier today, I flew into Newark airport. Note to self, Newark is not actually in New York City and you got to take a couple of different trains to actually make it to the Big Apple. Next time I travel, I’ll be sure to bring a map and maybe even find out what state the airport is in.

Regardless, I had a fun train ride to Penn Station. This gorgeous girl sat next to me on the train. And out of all languages she was talking in German, on her cell phone. Five minutes into the train ride, I hear her say to her friend:

“Oh, habe total den suessen Kerl neben mir sitzen” (I got this cute guy sitting next to me)

I am trying to not reveal that I actually understand every word she’s saying, as I want to see where this conversation is going. But I am liking what I hear.

Until, she glances at me and then whispers into her cell phone:
“Der hat so ein huebsches Naeschen”

Ok, this is too much now. The girl just told her friend that I have cute nose. And the way she said it was completely unlike I’ve ever heard anyone describe a guy’s nose. Especially mine. If my nose is a roaring German sheperd, then she just described as a cute litlte puppy dog. Not cool.

I shake my head and only moments later she’s off the phone. She looks at me in awe and I give her the “my nose is no little puppy dog” look. She blushes, while I ask her where in Germany she’s from, in German.

Her name was Britta and she actually lived in Dortmund for most of her life. While I hate the city’s soccer team, Dortmund is only 30 minutes from my hometown. What a coincidence. We talk for the rest of the train ride and promise to meet up soon. Only in Newark.

There is a reason why everyone takes cabs here. Not to self again, walking 15 blocks down Broadway is a little different than walking 15 blocks in downtown Portland. Especially, when you are schlepping around two bags.

I can’t believe how many people jay walk here. Actually, I haven’t seen anyone here who doesn’t. If NYC would enforce jay walking like they do in Seattle, nobody would have to pay taxes here. That would be sweet.

After grabbing some baked zito in some hidden Italian restaurant, I spent the rest of the day working at Starbucks.

Then around midnight, I went on a long run through the city. Last note to myself for tonight, Central Park might not be the safest place at night. Especially when you don’t know where you are going, or how to get out.