Eat the Pizza: A Ghost Story

“It was a night just like tonight, in a place just like this one. In fact, it happened in this very room.”

            Billy raises his hand. “In the honeymoon suite of a shitty motel?”

            Scout leader Mr. Thompson lets out a sigh. First his smokes got drenched in the sudden downpour that flooded their campsite. And now the kids were getting restless. “Yes, Billy, right here in the honeymoon suite of the West Pines Motel. And watch your mouth.”

            “Shouldn’t it have been a dark and stormy night? These stories always start on a dark and stormy night,” says Frankie while the other scouts in the room nod in agreement.

            Mr. White, Frankie’s dad, jumps in before Mr. Thompson loses his cool. Again. “Now kids, why don’t we let Mr. Thompson tell the story while we wait for the food.” He nods to Mr. Thompson to start again.

            “Can I use the bathroom?” asks Francis, already shaking. He never sat through the ghost stories whenever they went camping. Mr. White waves him to go and Francis disappears into the bathroom.

            “Fine, on a dark and stormy night,” starts the Scout leader again. “The newlyweds arrived to the honeymoon suite of the West Pines Motel. As the husband carried his new wife into the room, a familiar smell wafted out the door. There, on the table, the one Jack is sitting at,” he says, pointing at Jack, the newest member of their troop, “were three medium-sized pizzas.”

            “Oh, can we have pizza?” Steven raises both his hands in celebration, as if just by asking made it so. The rest of the boys start shouting what toppings they like the best. Calls for pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and a lone cry for anchovies fill the air.

            “No,” Mr. Thompson says, stopping their chatter. “So, where was I? After they found the pizzas the woman calls the front desk. ‘Consider it a wedding gift from us to you. Please enjoy your stay and please eat the pizzas,’ the manager said. Instead, the couple decided to get into the red, heart-shaped Jacuzzi. Yes, the very one you kids immediately started playing with even though you were already drenched from the storm.”

            “Why’d you pick this room if you didn’t want us playing with it?” Austin scowls, still wet from the rain and being the only one to fall completely into the Jacuzzi after Billy pushed him.

            “Your parents would’ve killed me if we kept camping in the storm. Plus there were no other vacancies.” He gives Austin a glare just to shut him up, and seeing him shivering, sends him to the bathroom for more towels. “Back to the story. After an hour in the Jacuzzi, there was a knock on the door. The man slipped into a yellowing robe. He found the manager outside to greet them and see if they were enjoying their stay and if there was anything he can get them. ‘And please eat the pizzas,’ he said with a smile

            “After the manager left, the couple decided to turn in for the night into the heart-shaped bed, pulling the red satin sheets over them.

            “That night, the sound of footsteps creaked on the worn, red rug, feet dragging, shambling, but whenever the husband or wife sat up only the darkness of the night filled the room. Then came the scratch, scratch, scratching sound on the wooden table holding the pizzas. However, it was the shaking of the bed that finally drove –”

            “This is dumb,” Billy says, standing and heading to the bathroom, “I need to piss.”

            “Hey, I said watch your mouth,” says Mr. Thompson. “Mr. White, could you check on those kids and let them know the story is almost done.” Mr. White nods and heads to the bathroom as well.

            “So, there were the footsteps and the scratching and the bed shaking. And finally the couple couldn’t take it anymore. The husband called the manager while his wife headed into the bathroom. He told the manager of the noises but the manager only asked if he and his wife had eaten the pizzas. ‘No,’ he said ‘we haven’t touched them yet.’ There was a scream from the bathroom and the man dropped the phone and sprinted there only to find the bathroom empty. He could hear the manager’s shout through the receiver dropped on the floor, ‘Eat the pizza! They only want the pizza!’ Frustrated and angry, the man gobbled down a slice and with a mouth full of cheese and crust yelled into the darkness, ‘There, I ate the pizza! Now give her back!’ And through his rage, he saw the pizza slice return. Smoke and darkness formed into a solid, triangular shape in the box to complete the pie – the slice he just ate! A cold breeze ripped through the room and now a ghostly image stood before him. It reached down and grabbed the ghostly slice, its hand passed through everything but the ghost pizza. And, as if perfectly natural, the ghost gobbled down the slice, hungrily, greedily. Soon enough, more ghosts appeared their moans and cries distinct and unnerving and demanding, ‘Eat,’ they said, ‘Eat.’

            “And so the man ate and ate and ate. He devoured the first pizza alone and the ghost pizza is devoured by his supernatural guests. Halfway through the second, as if sensing him slowing down, his wife emerged from the bathroom – disheveled but unharmed – and the two of them managed to finish the remaining pizzas. The End.”

            At that moment, there is a knock on the door and Mr. Thompson stands up to answer it. “Okay kids, looks like dinner is here,” he says as he hands the money to the delivery man and puts the bags on the table. He points at Frankie. “Tell your dad and the rest of them they can come out of hiding. It wasn’t even a scary story anyway.”

            Frankie races back from the bathroom, shaking and stuttering, sweat mixes with tears as he shouts, “There not there! No one’s there!”

            “Okay, kid, quit fucking around!” Mr. Thompson storms into the bathroom only to find instead of three children and one grown man, the room is completely empty. Mr. Thompson turns around, pale with fear and shock. The eyes of his troop stare back at him, teary-eyed but accusing, as if his story is what caused them to vanish. No, not vanish, they were taken. The ghosts. They only want food. He sees the two dozen tiny white boxes stacked together in the plastic bags the delivery man gave him. “Well, I hope the ghosts like Chinese food.”

            They don’t.

            And the four members of Troop 276 were never seen again.

New York Travels Day 7: Lunch with Terry's Family

For my last full day in New York, what better way to spend it than in Jersey! Just like my family would like if anyone else came to visit, Terry said that his mom would like to meet me and treat me to food. side note: I'm just kidding about that first part: my family couldn't care less about you. And yes, I do think it's weird that people want to meet me, because, well, it's me. But I brought a gift so that makes everything OK. Anyway, Terry and I headed out early that morning to have lunch with his mom at her house in New Jersey. We needed to run through the station, but we made the train just in time. The train ride was actually pretty depressing, well, at least the view in the beginning part of the train ride. After we exited a tunnel, it looked like just marshland and factories outside. The sky was gray and honestly it seemed like everything else was just as gray, too. It looked like someplace you'd go if you wanted to hide a body but didn't want to work too hard. You could literally just leave it anywhere along the rail line within the first couple of stops and no one . After that, we started to enter civilization once again.

The house ended up being in the woods with the neighbors in sight, but not close enough that you could hear them. They even claimed to have seen a bear once. Terry's mom made a ton of food! Kalbi, kim chee, long rice (I think it's called jap chae in Korean), kim chee salad, fish and shrimp. Then she brought out a huge sea bass (I don't know what kind of fish it was but that's what I wrote down it was so I guess that's it). And there was only five of us. Luckily I had three glasses of wine to wash it all down with.

Thanks to Terry and his new phone for this pic

With a full stomach and a slight buzz, Terry decided it would be fun to throw a ball around. I would like to say that I made a decent showing but honestly, between my fading athletic abilities and the lethargy brought upon me by my recent gorging, I'm sure I spent more time chasing the ball than catching it. After I relaxed in the house for a bit and tried to answer, in the best way possible, everyone's questions about Hawaii (though as most of you know, I am a horrible spokesperson for life here... or in general). As the buzz started to die down and their questions were coming to an end, it was time for... you guessed it, drinking games! I swear, it wasn't my intent to get drunk in New Jersey knowing we still needed to take the train back and I still needed to pack everything. But the game was on and we had beer so obviously I'm gonna play. There was a game with thumbs and numbers and also a game of categories (by how much I can describe it, I'm pretty sure I was the loser in these games). Well, two beers later my time in Jersey had come to an end and we headed back to the train. (And if you've been paying attention, I forgot to take pictures all day).

Then came the worst part: I actually tend to get motion sick pretty easily. And the alcohol now in my system didn't seem to be helping at all. With all the starting and stopping the train was doing, I was really worried I was gonna hurl but I managed to keep it together. Terry helped out once we got to the transfer stop by walking super fast, forcing my body to focus more on moving the legs than worrying about the bitching my stomach was doing. When we finally made it back to Terry's place, I managed to shower, pack, and drink some water until the nausea went away. And that's when I remembered one of the most important things of all that I'd forgotten to do this entire trip

Yeah, I'd forgotten this entire time that we never got a picture together.

Looks like nothing's changed. And I hope it never does. I know I've said it before and I'll probably say it a bunch more times after everytime we talk about this but thanks again for letting me crash at your place and for hanging out when you had the time. If it weren't for that, well, I would never have been able to have this experience. If you ever come to visit, well, hopefully I'll have my own place by then because the house now would be super crowded. See you again, hopefully soon.

New York Travels Day 6: Just Me and the Pen

I had the rarest of days today: I had nothing to do. No work to suffer through, no chores to finish, no video games to play, no TV shows piled up on the DVR to catch up with. Plus, I had basically finished the entire list of things that I wanted to see and do in New York (I don't know, maybe the list wasn't as long as I thought it was). But, I had a free day and I wasn't going to waste it. So I did the one thing I've always wanted to do - I wrote. Finding a library close by wasn't too hard and that's where I spent my entire Saturday. I know what you're thinking, "what kind of asshole just spends his entire day in a library? the weather is nice, you're in a new city on vacation, why aren't you still out exploring?" Well, you don't understand - I've never had this kind of opportunity. Back home, there's always something to do or someplace to go, and if I do have a chance to just stay home, well it usually means one or more of my siblings are there too. But this was a chance to just sit someplace and write, just me and my pen. And it was just as good as every other day I've spent on vacation so far. After a quick lunch at McDonalds, I found a seat at a table at the library with a bunch of other people already sitting on it doing... I don't care what they were doing, there was an open seat and I took it. I pulled out the one notebook I brought with me, a pen, and turned on my writing playlist; it's basically just a collection of Shimmixes' Kpop mash-ups, some old Chemical Brothers and Crystal Method, and some Mat the Alien mixes courtesy of Sunny. Simply put, anything loud enough to tune out the people around me but without the voices to distract me. Sadly, I didn't get anything actually publishable or that I even want to rewrite here, but I got the start to a couple things so that's good enough for now. And I got the most important thing - a taste. I'd forgotten what it was like to write. It feels good and I guess that I'd forgotten what that was like for awhile now. I'm working on getting it back, but it's slow and hard work, but I'm trying. Hell, maybe I'll even get the hunger for it again.

After they kicked me out of the library, I wandered around for a bit longer (I hadn't actually spent a lot of time in the area Terry was living in). I picked up some Shawarma for dinner and it was the first time I'd been tricked by the picture. It looked like a normal sized plate on the picture, but it was too much food. Usually I'm tricked the other way (the plate is smaller than the picture) but this was a welcome change to that trend. I ended up eating just half of it and throwing the rest in the fridge (which I may have accidentally left in Terry's fridge when I left, sorry about that). But that did add Middle Eastern food to my list of foods eaten on this trip.

And that's the entire day.

New York Travels Day 5: Empire State Building, Chinatown, Souvenir Shopping

Honestly, the first thing I did today was decide not to go to the reading Lev Grossman was supposed to be holding that day. I had found out purely by coincidence that the author of "The Magicians" would be giving a reading for the New York University Creative Writing Program. note: If you haven't read these books yet, do it now! Currently it is my favorite book trilogy and, as I've told people who ask, it is basically what J.K. Rowling would've written if she'd been writing for adults. Just think of the differences between yourself in highschool and college and then add magic and you've basically got the premise of the story. Anyways, I decided against it mostly because he was supposed to be doing it with another author and I felt it would be pretty stupid to go since I had no idea who the other author was or what she had written.

So, back to the day. Started the day with a couple chocolate donuts and an apple juice again. Also, not to brag, but I think by this time I've gotten pretty good with this riding of trains. I had a lot of things crossed off on the list of things I figured I'd do while in New York, so basically this day was set for just taking care of possibly the last couple of places. I started off with the Empire State Building. After paying the admission fee and once again walking through what basically amounted to airport security again, I headed up to the top. There was a brief history overview of the building of the Empire State Building. At the top, I could see... well... everything. We were 80-something floors up, though not quite the top (I was still too cheap to pay the extra $20 to go to the extra 20 floors to the very top). The deck was packed with other tourists. It was actually pretty uncomfortable as we were all packed so tightly. And I had ridden on rush hour trains in Japan. So I did get a couple pictures before getting bored of the whole thing.

the Downtown view

You can kind of see Central Park from here

the people as seen on full-zoom with my camera

Oh, I also got to see people use their selfie-sticks by sticking them off the edge of the Empire State Building. After taking pictures for a bit until boredom hit, I headed back to check-off another place on my list of... well... places to visit. Luckily it was also about lunch time, so I headed off to Chinatown.

I don't know, I guess I was expecting more or something else. First off, is it weird that though it is called Chinatown, every shop seemed to be run by an Indian man yelling at me to come in and buy some cheap trinkets. I don't know, I guess I had been expecting to be yelled at by a Chinese man instead. Luckily, I'd already bought enough cheap trinkets to satisfy everyone back home. Also, it seemed like there were a lot more Vietnamese restaurants than Chinese restaurants. And for some reason, I was hoping there would be street vendors selling dim sum like manapua and pork hash (ok, I have no idea what they're actual Chinese names are or what they're called on the mainland, I only know what they're called in Hawaii). I wandered around trying to distinguish which would be a good place to have lunch at before just saying "fuck it" and heading into the first restaurant on the street I turned down. Ate some pork hash and some shrimp dumplings and tried to plot out what to do next. After lunch, I spent the next ten to fifteen minutes using the toilet because, if you've been paying attention, my food intake so far has not been the most compatible with each other. Honestly, at first I thought I had food poisoning until I remembered that perhaps chocolate donuts and dim sum do not mix well with each other especially when all I'd drank that day was a bottle of apple juice.

Spent the rest of the day wandering around. Honestly, I'm not too sure where I ended up for a while. I know I bought more souvenirs but I'd apparently forgotten to take pictures so I have no idea where I spent that time. Oh, I know for a while I ended up in a clothing store to buy some shirts for my siblings. And I got suckered into spending a ton of time at a shop that sold mostly paper products due to my notebook weakness (and yes I did buy a couple for just myself). Oh, I did make it to Nintendo World! Everything Nintendo, on display.

After all the shopping, I headed back to Terry's place to drop off everything (luckily by this point he'd given me a key to hang onto while I was visiting) and then it was back out for dinner. Terry mentioned that he knew of a good Korean fried chicken place nearby his place. Got lost for a bit, but eventually I met Terry there and we gorged ourselves on delicious chicken. We talked story for a bit, reminiscing about Keio and Japan, until eventually it got late enough for sleep to come.

New York Travels Day 4: Wall Street and the Sketchbook Project

Today, after a late start (I don't think man was meant to eat two Shack Stack Burgers in one day), I finally decided to make my way down to the Financial District as Terry suggested. Getting off the train on Wall Street and ascending from the subway to the surface, I was greeted by the epitome of what I had imagined New York to be when I first thought about visiting: the concrete jungle, or, in layman's terms, a shit-ton of tall-ass buildings. I'd thought places I'd visited so far had tall buildings but that was nothing compared to the view I got just standing on the sidewalk outside the subway station. I feel like, at times, I lost sight of the sky or at least the buildings turned it into a mere blue streak amongst the gray, concrete heaven. Just to get my bearings (as well as stave off what possibly may have been an oncoming attack of claustrophobia) I got to an open area and took a seat at an open table. Just across the street I saw possibly the tallest building I'd ever seen. I was roughly 200ft away (though I am horrible at estimating distance) and I still couldn't fit it all in one shot with my camera. In my naivety, I thought to myself, "That must be the Empire State Building" which was strange since it looked further away on the maps I'd seen. Looking closer, it turns out it was just the Trump Building.

I really didn't think the Financial District would be such a huge tourist mecca but I guess it was due to not only the amount of tourists I saw wandering around and taking pictures, but the numerous maps on every block displaying points of interest to visit. I managed to make it to the outside of a bunch of the places that come to mind when I think about Wall Street.

The New York Stock Exchange

The Charging Bull

I really would have liked a picture with the Bull, or at least a clearer picture, but there were already a ton of tourists crowding around it. Also, I didn't know that it was anatomically correct. I saw a couple of people posing at it's backside with it's balls in their hands. Speaking of tourists, Terry forgot to mention the dress code around Wall Street, or it just never occurred to me the difference in dress between the Financial District and everywhere else I'd been so far. After walking around for a bit, I started to notice I could spot tourists not only by the cameras but by the t-shirts and shorts they wore. Everyone else, i.e. People who actually belonged there, wore business attire suits and dresses. I think I stuck out even more in my Keio hat, hoodie, and Crappy Kids t-shirt

Someone doesn't belong here

From there it was actually a pretty short walk to Battery Park where I got to see the Statue of Liberty. The line to get on the ferry was too long and I didn't really care to waste time riding the ferry. Besides, I'd gotten my dose of patriotism the day before. So I got some pictures from the shore and then headed back to the city.

It's just like being there, except further away

I got lost (again) looking for the train station. Strangely, it always seemed to happen when I was going to meet Terry for lunch. From the ferry terminal, I took the train uptown to as close as I could to where Terry worked. Met up with him and one of his co-workers for lunch at a pizza place they knew of. Once again, the food was excellent as it has been my entire trip. I think at this point I had started to figure out that if I lived in New York I would be teetering on just marginally healthy with the numerous food places being balanced with all the walking I would have to do just to get anywhere. Oh, the pizza. Umm, I remembered getting meatball pizza on a thin crust. And it was actually good thin crust. I've been to a lot of places where thin crust means just serving toppings on what basically amounts to a bland soda cracker. And once again, I have no idea what the place was called. Oh, and I got to talk some writing shop with Terry's co-worker who also happens to write. Unlike me, he's actually got a book going while I'm barely hanging onto some semblance of plot and character (and once again, I need to get my shit together). Oh, and I got this picture.

Apparently this is a brand of Mexican liquor... not sure about the rabbits

 After lunch, Terry headed back to work and I headed off to explore more. And there was someplace that was pretty far out of the way and it appeared that I had time to head there today. So I caught a couple trains to Brooklyn to see the Sketchbook Project at the Brooklyn Art Library. If you love seeing what other people can create with just a notebook and some free time, this is definitely a place you need to visit (and once again, thanks to Ben for telling me about it).

All the walls were lined with these books in a filing system there was no way I was going to understand. To keep everything in order, I needed to make an account online, select the books I wanted, and the clerk would look for the particular book and it to me. Also, with an account, it notifies the artist that someone has checked-out their book which probably provides a nice ego boast and encouragement to continue drawing. I probably spent a couple hours in here just looking at different books and I know I could've spent all day if this had been the first place I visited. Luckily, they do close so eventually I was kicked out, though not before I gave in and bought one.

I guess I have to start writing again now

If you've ever seen me draw, you know that it is barely at the caliber of your average elementary school student much less the drawings I saw in those other sketchbooks. However they were running a contest for people to submit their works of fiction so this seems like more my speed.

After a long walk to the train station (I headed to a different one than the one I used to get here) and a train ride, I was back at Terry's place. Oh, I also stopped off at the comic book store that is located right inside the station. I ended up buying a couple comics (did you know there's a FIGHT CLUB 2?!) as well as talking comics with the guy that was manning the store. Back at Terry's place, we ended up playing some Halo 4 (I promise I used to be better at this game) before I passed out for the night.

New York Travels Day 3: MoMA and the 9/11 Memorial

Following what seemed to become a pattern for the first couple of days, I once again managed to make it to two different attractions again. The first stop of today's travels began at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). Okay, it actually started with a couple chocolate donuts from Dunkin Donuts but that's besides the point. I miss having a Dunkin Donuts in Hawaii.

I think by this time I also realized I should've prepared more physically for this trip (I know, it was still only the second day and I was worried my body wouldn't be able to handle anymore of it). My legs just weren't used to spending all day working since I usually spend 8 hours a day, 5 days a week sitting in a chair. After spending all day yesterday walking around the park and back and forth from Terry's place to the train station, they were starting to protest all the work they've been taking on during this trip. I managed to give them a sort of break by transferring between three different train lines just to get me a couple blocks closer to the MoMA. However, I think that with all the walking to the transfer spots, I probably negated any benefits.

But back to the MoMA. Umm, let's see how much I can actually remember. I think the lower floors were dedicated to modern art exhibits as well as the "revolutionary artwork" exhibits they were hosting. On the upper floors were exhibits by famous artists. Names like Warhol, Van Gogh, and Picasso come to mind, but really, I can't tell the difference between who created what. Oh, they had that famous one by Van Gogh on display... "Starry Night." (sorry, no pictures as there was just too many people standing in front of it the whole time). Anyways, forget all those words, here's some pictures

 Umm, honestly I don't know what else to write about the museum. I really didn't take a lot of pictures but I do strangely remember certain exhibits, though writing about them doesn't sound too appealing to me and it probably isn't something you want to read. I promise I did walk the entire museum this time and I looked at 90% of the art pieces there. Most types of modern art don't really appeal to me. Usually it looks like someone just threw a bunch of stuff together and said "I've created art" and then someone pays them for it. Or maybe that's just my own jealousy coming out as I've thrown a bunch of crap onto a page and no one has yet to pay me (I need to write more). Honestly, I think I mostly hang around art museums and places like them just to steal ideas for potential writing pieces (At least I should be able to come up with something even from those pictures above as I've sort of hit a block recently). And as a friend just told me a couple days ago, I need to write more... or you know find another hobby... or start coming out instead of hanging out at home. The funniest part, I think I spent more time looking at books in the gift shop compared to the individual art displays. And yes, I did bring some home (There seems to be no limit on the money I'll waste on books).

After losing track of time, I remembered that I was supposed to meet Terry for lunch at Shake Shack. And, obviously when you're running late, everything that can happen to make you even later will happen. So I exited the MoMA and forgot which way the station was. I started walking in one direction, knowing there was a station somewhere on that street but never found it (it was probably in the other direction). I asked a doorman where the station was and he pointed me in the exact opposite direction I thought it was but I figured what the hell, he was probably right. A couple blocks later, I eventually found the station and then need to back track to the stop Terry told me to get off at (I think that guy sent me to the furthest station he could think of). But the burger was delicious. I'd definitely recommend it. The Shack Stack Burger! Hamburger patty, deep-fried portebello mushroom, melted cheese. I'm usually horrible at describing food and this time is no different so I'm just going to say that you need to eat this. No, I don't have a picture of it as I was too busy stuffing my face with it.

After lunch Terry had some errands to run, but recommended I check out the financial district. I hoped onto another train and headed downtown. I got off the train and I think I must've missed the stop because I ended up at the World Trade Center. It was a pretty far walk from the station or maybe it wasn't. I saw a sign saying "World Trade Center Memorial" with an arrow and I followed it for a bit until I got distracted by something else and then I got lost. Honestly, if you asked me to backtrack it for you, there's no way I could. At one point, I ended up by some pier. I had to walk around for a bit until I ran into tour group heading for the memorial so I just ended up sticking with them for a couple blocks.

Outside, it almost feels like a small park. with stretches of grass, trees, and a couple of benches. And squirrels. How the hell did squirrels get there. It's not like there was anyplace else with trees nearby. Especially so close to the financial district, or at least within sight. Do they import the squirrels? "It's not a park without squirrels," some city official might have said, "get me a couple of those furry bastards and throw them in the trees."

And I know what you're thinking now, "Why are you stalling?" Well, I'll get to that.

The first part of the memorial are the fountains. Both are perpetual waterfalls: what looks like a thousand individual streams jet from the top and fall to the chasm below and from there flow down into the hole at the bottom. It looks even better at night when the lights illuminate the water, turning them into streams of light.

 But what really got me were the names. Around the outside of the fountain is everyone who died that day. And I walked around both fountains. And I just kept thinking to myself that eventually I'll come to a panel along the edge that is blank, that perhaps the names have finally ended, but they don't. The names wrap themselves around both fountains.

Aside from the fountains there is also the 9/11 Museum itself. I really wasn't planning to go in, but after walking around the fountains I felt compelled to go inside. Plus, I really had nothing else to do and it was too late to go anywhere else (honestly, if you've been paying attention, I really don't plan anything, mostly I just choose a place and wander around it). And I was just in time for the last entry of the day. Umm, before I go on... umm... sorry, I'm usually really good at finding words (I have a degree in it, after all), well, just don't go by yourself, ok. Just don't. I'll get to that later.

Upon entering the museum, well, the first thing was getting searched. Like airport security search. Empty your pockets, take off your shoes, take off your belt, x-ray your bag, full body scan searched. Inside, over the loudspeakers, a summary of the day is played as well as brief statements from people who witnessed it, people who were there. They say you never forget where you were that day. I was watching TV that morning probably about 6am or so before school. Pokemon or Histeria! or some sort of cartoons. And my parents rushed into the room and snatched the TV remote from me. I saw part of the news before they sent me to get ready for school.

The first part of the tour displays surviving portions of the buildings (girders, original building foundations, a portion of the staircase survivors used to escape), the history of the World Trade Center dating back from the time it was built, and other items of historical significance. There are also several walls covered with donated pictures and artworks from around the country,

A giant flag made of other donated flags from each of the fifty states,

And a donated art piece entitled "Trying to remember the color of the sky." One tile for each of the victims and no tile is the exact same shade of blue, representing how each person would see the sky a little differently. Then there was the "no photography" section displaying the names and pictures of all of the victims. And the no photography carried on into the next exhibit: a breakdown of the day's events. A timeline of the day on the walls leads you through the exhibit, through room after room depicting the attacks in detail. Newspaper clippings, donated first-responder gear, personal effects, and even found wreckage are all on display. And then there's the testimonials and recorded phone calls played in tiny alcoves in each room: first-hand accounts from people who escaped from the towers as it collapsed around them, first-responders at the Pentagon, final calls from the passengers on those airplanes. I think it was toward the end of the exhibit I realized why there is no photography or recording; first is out of respect for the victims, second, well, honestly, this isn't anything you should be carrying around with you. Not to offend anyone who was there or lost family and friends, but this experience isn't something I'd wish to have on a camera to bring up on demand. Obviously, like all memories, they'll bubble to the surface every once in a while, but it isn't something I would think anyone should willingly and constantly expose themselves to. A lot of scenes were hard to watch, hard to hear, hard to experience. But you have to look at all of it, to take it all in (at least I felt that I had to), not only for the history of it all, but out of respect. There was a quote that summed it all up best, though I can't remember the exact words. It was during a video of the people jumping from the upper floors, the people who knew they weren't going to be able to get down after the planes hit. I don't remember the exact words but it was something along the lines of "We watched them jump. Out of respect we couldn't turn away."

After this experience I decided that I needed to gorge myself on something akin to pure happiness. Booze was the first thing that came to mind but unfortunately, I didn't really know any bars around Terry's place and the thought of stumbling around New York in search of a train station wasn't that appealing. In the end, I settled for hitting up Shake Shack once again and scarfing down another of those delicious burgers. Also, some random homeless guy threw a football at me. It was a low pass, but I really think I should've caught it. Umm, I know it sounds like a pretty uneventful way to end the day, but then I wound down by just watching a bunch of YouTube videos before passing out on the couch.

New York Travels Day 2: A Day at the Park(s)

When I originally planned out my vacation, I imagined getting an early start everyday just so I could explore as much as I could. Typically I wake up around 5-5:30am during the weekdays to go to the office and 6-6:30am to go to the farm on the weekends. But sleeping in felt so nice. It's definitely been a while since I've been able to sleep until 9am which is what ended up happening through most of the trip. So after finally dragging myself off of the couch, I got dressed for a morning which turned out to have a decent chill. I was really preparing for it to still be hot, but Terry said that the weather changed just as I got there, which was an experience in itself. Living in Hawaii, the most I prepare for the changing of the seasons is sometimes it gets a little colder. I figured this was the beginning of summer turning into autumn.

But you don't care about the weather so let's get back to the story. Today I headed out to Central Park. After a train ride and buying a hot dog and a coke from a street vendor, I started my trek through Central Park from the south end.

Central Park Southend

It really was strange to be walking through so much green knowing that just outside was a forest of towering buildings. Definitely different than how I would usually be spending that Tuesday - stuck inside an office with no windows for 8 hours. It was a good change of pace. Speaking of change of pace, it was probably one of the few times I was able to just walk while on vacation. Typically with all the people around and the hustle of it all, I was walking at a much faster pace than I do back home.

But back to Central Park. Honestly, I assumed that it was just a gigantic park within the city. I had no idea that there were actually things inside the park. I bought a southend map for a couple dollars and started walking around. After wandering around for a bit, I made it to a small field and just sat down for a bit.

After a rest and jotting some story ideas in the notebook I managed to remember to bring with me on the trip, I started exploring Central Park again. I found a Merry-Go-Round as well as a dozen or so tables where people could play chess or checkers on then (I seem to have forgotten to take pictures of both of those). But after walking for a bit and turning down a bunch of pedicab ride offers, I made it to the "Friends" fountain! The one from the opening theme song.

Honestly, it isn't that impressive without the water

After this fountain, there was apparently another fountain marked on the map I'd bought which turned out to be pretty impressive. Sorry Friends fountain

From there I spent the rest of the day wandering around the park, heading north and following the map to any other landmark with an interesting name. Honestly I have no idea how long I spent in the park. I know eventually I got hungry again and bought another hot dog and coke. In wandering around I was really surprised at the amount of statues. I saw a couple dedicated to poets as well as writers and even their works. There was even an obelisk! I couldn't quite get a good picture of it so I decided to try to sketch it, which apparently prompted some random guy to come up and start talking to me about the history of the obelisk as well as it's purpose. Something about contacting aliens, I think, and that he was part of a group that needed to be near it to get closer to ... something or other. Honestly, I tried not to pay too much attention once he said that he wasn't some religious fanatic because, well, once you start justifying your fanaticism to someone who didn't ask, well it means that you're a fanatic. Plus he said that he was an incarnation of the angel Michael and that's about when I decided to cut our conversation and start my wandering again.

Just past the obelisk though, I came upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art, aka The MET. Looking at the time though, I didn't have a whole lot of time so I figured, since I was there, I would at least see one exhibit before heading back. And obviously, if you tell me you've got an exhibit featuring a history of armor and arms, well, that seemed to be the way to go.

I think I really just like seeing the tools we used to use to kill each other with. All of them are very unique and, at times, even elaborate in their designs which really have nothing to do with the functionality of the weapon. That someone would take the time to add any sort of craftsmanship for someone who was probably going to die. It's very different from the functional design of the guns we use today. I got a bunch more pictures, but I think these really exemplify the exhibit.

Well, after The MET, I figured I had accumulated enough stuff from random gift/souvenir shops that I should probably head back to Terry's place to drop it all off. So I got a little lost looking for a subway station, but after wandering a couple blocks looking for the entrance I finally found what I was looking for. And, thanks to all my bus training, I figured out the best route to transfer trains to get me back the fastest. After a nap, it was time to head to Citi Field! We managed to buy some tickets online for some really good seats for the price they were selling them at.

 So, like I said, one of the reasons I chose this time to visit was to catch the Braves at Mets. Sure, I thought at the time the Braves had a chance to make the post-season, but that all fell apart in the months leading up to the trip. Anyways, we had great seats. From the seats in right field, we could see the whole field and the big screen. And since we were at the ball field, I got another hot dog and fries. And since we were at Citi Field it was $11. And then another $11 for a Coors tallboy (yeah, I was thinking the same thing, but I think Awkwafina sang it best "Citi Field b****, where the overpriced drinks at"). And I promise (even though it's probably considered blasphemous in my household), since I was in New York, I was cheering for the Mets to win... but they lost. But I did buy a bunch of souvenirs from the team shop. After the game we all packed onto the train and headed back. Oh, and it was there where I got my first taste of the differences of homelessness between Hawaii and New York. In Hawaii, people will usually just sit in front of stores or on the sidewalk to ask for your change. And if you don't want to give them anything, you just walk passed them and that's it. Well, when you're on a train, there's no where to go once the person enters your car and starts rambling his or her sad life story to beg you to give money. So you just sit there, uncomfortably, as the person walks back and forth on the train, though this guy also ruined his spiel by asking, halfway through, if the Mets won.

New York Travels Day 1: Arrival

So, after about a week of tweaking on "The Taken King," I remembered that I was gonna start writing again and obviously I should start with this most recent trip. Just like the Australian Chronicles, I'll be doing this day by day. Unlike the Australian Chronicles, I hope you're ready for more words... well, the same amount of words, just less pictures (I still suck at remembering to take pictures). Let's go!

So, skipping the boring parts, I landed at LaGuardia Airport in the afternoon without any problems... except for the temperature. Honestly, I'd been watching the New York weather reports religiously before I left and I assumed it was gonna be hot during the trip (at least highs between 78 and 85 degrees sounded hot). I got there in shorts and a shirt and immediately shivered all the way to the baggage claim to grab my bag just so I could get to the bathroom to change into jeans and hoodie.

A half hour taxi ride (the whole time repeating Terry's address constantly to the cab driver) I arrived outside Terry's place. SIX YEARS! and honestly, you don't look any different. We caught up for a bit before I ended up taking a nap on the couch which would be my bed for the next week. I'm not sure how long it was later, but then it was time to head out, mostly to get food. It wasn't as far of a walk to the train as it was back in the Plume IS days but it was still a several blocks away. Enough of a walk to realize the streets are numbered and there should be no way I could possibly get lost as long as I can count.

Obviously a New York experience is riding the train. We don't have these back home, though I did ride them everyday for a semester in Japan so I figured I knew what to expect. And for the most part it was the same. A couple differences. The first and main difference: Talking. No one talks on the train in Japan. In New York, everyone talked. They talked to their friends. They talked on their phones. I think a couple people were just talking to themselves. Unfortunately now I'm hearing conversations I'd rather never heard spoken aloud. Another major difference: Personal space. Never had any of that on the trains in Japan. Here, if the car is full, you find another damn car. I actually watched people walk halfway down the train, bypassing cars that were only 3/4 full. I'll probably talk more about the trains, but that's enough for now.

So what was my first meal in New York, you're probably wondering? Pizza? Hot dogs? insert name of other food you think of when you think of New York? Ramen. Before you start yelling at your screen (as if I can hear you) about how I wasted a trip eating ramen that I could just have easily eaten back home, well, first of all it was really good ramen. And you could tell it was good before you ate it. Small, hole-in-the-wall shop, a long walk away from the train station, with maybe enough room for a dozen people at once. All the trademarks of a really good ramen shop. How was the ramen though? The best ramen I've ever had! The broth was delicious. The pork was soft and broke easily under still-lacking chopstick handling. The noodles were a perfect texture. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating all of this since I hadn't eaten for close to 15 hours or so. The best part: they gave the seats facing out the window so I could eat and look at the people waiting for seats, the hunger in their eyes.

After food, we headed back. But first, our train stopped at Times Square!

It was like walking into a totally different world. The lights were bright as day, shining advertisements on every building. People crowded around, packed together. It was crazy. I think the only time I've seen that many people packed together like that is Waikiki on Halloween night. I didn't get a picture of it, but apparently there are some very cheap seats for the opera: fold-out chairs outside and you watch the opera on a giant screen. Terry led me around Times Square while I adjusted to the sensory overload. I didn't understand how they could even allow people to drive on the streets but we still needed to watch for cars. I found a souvenir shop selling those "I Love New York" trinkets and bought a bunch of souvenirs before we headed back. I think I passed out on the train which isn't a problem since Terry's stop was apparently at the end of the line where they kick you off the train anyway. And finally, like most nights to follow, I would fall asleep to the sound of Terry's roommate playing video games. Just like home.