New York, Old Boyfriend 2

A few years ago my ex took me to New York. It was his brother's 30th birthday. So, my ex and I flew and met his brother (and the brother's girlfriend), his mom and stepdad, and his dad. I had never been to New York so I was really excited. I mean New York City is one of the most notable, awesome cities in the world. A lot different than California. A lot of old history. The Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, The Empire State Building. Super interesting, right?

Well, my ex wasn't big on history or visiting historical landmarks. He was by no means a dummy- he was actually very smart, but his idea of fun was getting shit faced drunk. Which is the exact opposite from myself. I love history, I love learning about historical buildings, etc. I'm a nerd. Sure, I had a span of a few years where I'd go out drinking, but for the most part, that time in my life is over. Honestly, mainly because I can't take the terrible hangovers that accompany consuming large amounts of alcohol. But there was never a time where I wasn't interested in history and exploring new places.

We were only in New York for 3 days or so (this was like 4 years ago so I don't remember the details exactly). We did go to Central Park, Ground Zero, we saw Grand Central Station, Times Square, and the Financial District area (I can't remember right now...). Anyways, can you guess what else we did? Go ahead. You will never guess in a million years. WE WENT TO A MOTHER FUCKING BASEBALL GAME. It just so happened that the Mets were playing the Yankees. And he made us go. Fuck that shit. So, I like baseball and I like going to the games. But I only like going to A's games. I don't like either the Mets or the Yankees, so I didn't give a shit. And it was raining and cold- like see-your-breath-cold. It was May for Christ sakes. And of course we were both wearing flip flops. We were the only fucking people in the whole stadium who were wearing flip flops. I was miserable and I bitched the whole time. Boring as shit. We could've been visiting a museum or The Statue of Liberty (which I didn't get to see). But no, we went to a god damn baseball game. Fuck. You.

As I mentioned before, he loved to drink. So every night we'd go out for drinks, which I don't mind. A couple of drinks, good company-- hey, that's fine with me. I said a couple of drinks, not 101003, you fucking asshole. So one night we went to an Irish pub- which was pretty cool because I'm Irish. I digress, but my grandpa's dad who came from Ireland had a pub in New York, which is pretty cool. Anyways, I had a couple of drinks and it was good. His mom was actually really, really sweet, so I was having a good time. He, on the other hand kept drinking and drinking. Dumb ass. So, the bartender was from Ireland and the ex kept on trying to speak with an Irish accent. You fucking dumb asshole. First of all, you sound like a complete ass right now, secondly, you cannot speak with an Irish accent to save your life. You goddamn Guido (he was part Italian), stop trying to sound like a goddamn Mc!!!! It was excruciating.

So, we get back to our hotel. He was sloppy drunk, of course. He wanted to have sex (sorry if this is TMI) and if I haven't mentioned it before, I'll mention it again- it was the WORST in the world. Ever. And I'm not just saying that because we broke up. It was awful. Disappointing. Anyways, so guess what happened?! He FELL ASLEEP during!!! Umm. Not that I think I'm the greatest thing in the world, but Jesus Christ. The tv was on at the time and I remember that awful Sarah McLachlan commercial came on. You know the one "Angel" with all those poor kitties and pups looking all pathetic. Ugh. What a night.

So of course he wants to sleep in the morning and I want to see the city. Not a good combo, he and I.

Anyways, that's the fond memory I have of New York.