Not once since I’ve been here have I felt so flustered, irritated and impatient. That is, until I went to Port Authority solo for the first time last Friday. Port Authority is the NY & New Jersey bus terminal. It’s a clusterfuck. I hate it. I’m usually good about being patient if lost or given the wrong directions. I quickly adjusted to the NY subway system. I’ve acquiesced to the fact that when I get out of the subway in an area I don’t frequent I will always have to pull out my trusty google maps. I try to study the subway maps to become more familiar. People ask me almost daily for directions and I feel proud that they think I know where I’m going. A few times I’ve surprised myself and did. I’ve learned more patience when the train is delayed or I just miss it when going through the turnstile.
However, when it’s been almost 30 minutes of running around and asking 5 different workers of Port Authority where the fuck I should be, with it being hot and crowded, lines and gates everywhere, I almost lost my shit. It wasn’t pretty. I was sweating and running around and literally walked the same long corridor 3 times because 2 different people said it was “that way”. I needed a drink desperately but I stupidly didn’t bring anything for myself to pregame. After 30 minutes scrambling I finally found my way to the right bus in the right area and found myself on my way to Jersey for the Jets vs NY Giants preseason game at MetLife Stadium.
Was that the only time I went to Port Authority this past weekend? Of course not. I’m clearly a glutton for punishment. Yesterday I went to Hoboken, NJ with Ela and Alex to meet up with a bunch of other folks at the Pier 13 bier garten. I meet them at Port Authority with Huxley in tow. He’s heavy when you have to carry him on your shoulder in a bag filled with other things. He always gives me shit and puts his legs out straight to make it harder for me to put him in a bag. It’s a pain in the ass. But I do it because I want him to experience as much as I get to. Anyways, we get our tickets and wait for at least 25 minutes before realizing we’re waiting for the wrong damn bus. Ergh. We walk down the stairs back through the terminal and down an escalator to get to the right gate. Good thing the tickets are all the same color for the different gates so we got away with not getting new tickets. We wait another 20 minutes and finally the right bus comes and I hide Huxley with a jacket over his head in my bag and we’re off. (Apparently, there are no dogs are allowed on the NJ transit line.)
It was a beautiful day, I got a great view of the Manhattan skyline, and drank good IPA and sangria out of crazy straws. Huxley got to say hi to other dogs and made friends. He even got some of Alex’s rib bone. What a lucky pup. We had a great time, but I think I’m done with Jersey. There’s no reason to go back any time soon.
When I wasn’t at Port Authority or in Jersey, I was walking around Central Park, at the dog park, getting my nails done or eating. It was a fun weekend. I’m looking forward to a relaxing evening of How I Met Your Mother reruns. Except for the finale. Still upset at how it turned out. So stupid. So so stupid.