Coney Island Copper

I woke up with the plan to go to the upper west side. A few people have mentioned to swallow my pride and go on a hop-on-hop-off bus tour to get a feel of the city’s layout before wandering around it. I will eventually, but having gone my whole life without a license, I think people might be underestimating my willingness to walk. With purpose, aimlessly, in the wrong direction; I’ll walk anywhere.

Until my legs get tired. I got the subway to 34th street, near Times Square.

Did anybody else expect time square to be loud? I expected the same “Hustle and bustle” of Piccadilly Circus, but it was eerily quiet. That made the gigantic advertisements even more impressive, sweeping across your field of vision in silence.

I had no plans for the Upper West Side except to get Soup from the Soup Nazi. I ate it on a bench in Central Park.

I have no idea where I went in the Upper West Side, but everything looked like Seinfeld, which is exactly what I wanted. I had a cup of tea at a place that had booths and pretended I was in Tom’s restaurant.

I had heard you can get cheap last minute Broadway tickets under the red steps in Times Square, so I headed back that way, and asked how much it would be to see Chicago. $60, 9 rows back, centre. Yes please. I had a Bacardi and Coke at a nearby bar and waited.


When the show started up, something became real. I don’t know if it was the Jazz music, the nostalgia, or the fact that I was on fucking broadway; but at that point I fully believed that I was in New York. I probably could’ve had myself a little happy cry at that point. We learnt that this night was the show’s 20th anniversary, and the crowd was full of cast members from the past two decades. This made the show very intimate, and the fourth wall seemed to be broken more than usual.

I have a temper. Until recently, it hadn’t shown itself since high school. Losing your temper as an adult will force you to take a good hard look at yourself and reevaluate your strength as a person. But I dunno, I found some comfort in hearing six murderesses on death row singing “he had it comin'”, and I was forced to give myself a break.

After the show a police officer on a horse offered to take me to Coney Island to show me around. Coney Island is closed during the winter, but the locals say that makes it even better.


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