"NEW YORK - BIG BUILDINGS AND SMALL DOGS" New York City by JohnnySpangles

New York City Travel Guide: 15,525 reviews and 30,893 photos

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The first place I ever went to in America was New York and I must admit it was a bit of a disappointment. I’d somehow imagined that JFK airport would be the apex of airport technology, considering that it’s the entry point to the financial heart of the American empire. In fact it’s more of a decrepit old dump than Heathrow is. They’re also very strict on immigration. I was asked three times what my business was in America. The first was on the immigration card that you have to fill in on the aeroplane which also asks a series of bizarre questions including; Are you in possession of any fresh fruit or vegetables? Do you intend to involve yourself in any criminal activity whilst in the USA? Are you in possession of any illegal narcotics?

I wonder if any drug, or grapefruit, smuggler ever answers ‘yes’ to the above? I felt obliged to tell them about the packet of Opal Fruits that’s been kicking around in my suitcase since 1981. I wish I hadn’t. There’s a certain something lacking in the sense of humour department in US Customs officials.

I took a taxi from the airport into Manhattan, a real yellow one, just like on the telly. As taxi drivers tend to be fairly easy targets for robbery they have a partition between you and the driver. Unfortunately the taxis are nothing more than normal cars that are painted yellow, so the partition takes up half of the leg-space in the back. Consequently you find yourself with your knees around your ears and longing for the relatively luxuriant legroom granted you in United Airlines Pauper Class.

I’d been warned that very few New York taxi drivers speak any English. Therefore I’d prepared myself by having the words ‘Royalton Hotel, 44 West 44th Street, Manhattan, please’ translated into fifty-six of the World’s most popular languages. Just to be on the safe side I’d also gone for Seychellois, Tobagan and Armenian. The latter also involves a great deal of arm waving and complex finger pointing, which had required my attendance at night classes. Therefore it came with some surprise, and disappointment, to discover that the driver was an Afghan.

It transpired, though, that my driver didn’t bark and spoke fluent American, which is the one language I hadn’t considered. This came about because he’d spent two years in Southampton welding pipes together. He was a bit of an authority on pipe welding. By the end of the journey I too felt at one with the subject. Every time I thought I’d caught a glimpse of some famous, and long awaited, New York landmark I’d be brought hurtling back to the world of pipe interconnectivity.

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GRAND CENTRAL STATION AND POINTY SKYSCRAPER

The Royalton Hotel in Manhattan is an Ian Schrager hotel. To those of you in the know about such things you’ll be rubbing your chin sagely and saying; “Ah yes Ian Schrager hotels, very trendy, designer look, very hip, well done Johnny, how did you wrangle that one?”

It’s the sort of hotel that you hate with a vengeance as soon as you enter through the magnificently designed doors. You remember when hotels used to be those little green, plastic, house shaped, things in the Monopoly box? The ones that you used to stand on in your bare feet after a night’s frenzied Monopoly playing? Well they’ve come a long way since then, especially the Royalton. It has been designed to the point where it has lost any functionality at all, other than being a meeting place for New York’s expense accounts.

For instance, the lighting in the Royalton is very discreet and subdued. So much so that I’d fallen over two bell-boys before I’d managed to find the reception. And then when I did find the reception I could have sworn that the room-rate on my check-in card was £375 per night. I asked the receptionist to clarify this matter for me. Surely there was a decimal point that was hiding under the cover of darkness somewhere? It appeared not to be the case as even the prices in this tribute to the design skills of Mr Schrager were designed to be eye-catching rather than functional. When the manager was called it also appeared that this extortionate price didn’t include any number of prostitutes, no free round-the world flight and only one toilet roll.

After half an hour stumbling around in the darkness I managed to find the elevator, mostly by a combination of the light from my cigarette and the Braille signs thoughtfully provided by Mr Schrager. The room was no different. It was a room that shouted at you; “Don’t just sleep here, phone your friends and invite them round to come and look at it.”

There were some radical design elements in the suite. One of which was a totally conical washbasin. Every time you switched the tap on water would bounce all over the walls, the floor and me. It did look very nice though. The bathroom was also covered in mirrors. The last thing you need to see at seven in the morning, after a hard night’s drunkenness, is yourself. Still it did go some way to buggering up the perfect design of it all.

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TIMES SQUARE, GOTHAM CITY.

On my first evening in New York I got chatting to a British bloke in a bar. It was a nice bar called ‘The Pink Playground’. There were a lot of men in there, and all very friendly. This particular chap was wearing a leather peaked cap and a vest. He told me that most Americans don’t regard New York as being typically America. But to us simple little Brits, it is exactly what we expect America to be. He also went on to tell me some other interesting things about Americans in general. His particular hang-up was their inability to eat with a knife and fork. They’ve mastered the fork side of it, but using the knife at the same time seems to elude them. It’s probably a little like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach simultaneously. Indeed waiters usually take the knife away after the first course to avoid any embarrassment caused by its continued presence on the table. So the bloke I was talking to hides his under the table, or carries a spare around in his pocket. Thus equipped with this new-found nugget of important information I went onwards to find a restaurant.

I eventually came across an interesting little French place on Broadway and ordered a goat’s cheese salad followed by a steak. After the goat’s cheese had been despatched I bore my friend’s advice in mind.

I could see the waiter approaching to remove my plate, so I surreptitiously slid my knife into my pocket. The waiter arrived, took away my plate and fork, and then wandered off with a strange look in his eye. As I waited expectantly for my steak I could see that there seemed to be some conversation between him and his colleagues. The next thing I knew I was being tapped on the shoulder by a rather large, and heavily armed, policeman. There then followed a rather heated debate as to why I was stealing the restaurant’s cutlery and what was I doing in America anyway and, furthermore, had I brought any fresh fruit into the country.

As for sightseeing in New York, there’s plenty of it. One of the most impressive sights was pointed out to me by a taxi-driver as we waited at some lights. Much to his amusement there was a small dog on the end of a leash that was desperately trying to work out a particularly troublesome log. The aforementioned dog’s egg was far too big for such a small hound and we missed three green lights watching it do battle with the irksome turd. Eventually, to our amazement, the dog laid a cable that would be capable of transatlantic communications. We felt compelled to applaud.

That was New York then. If you ever go there, do try to find the corner of 44th and 7th as this now legendary dog-poo may still be there. It’s worth seeing.

Last visit to New York City: Oct 2000
Intro Written Oct 8, 2002
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Reviews (3)

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Comments (7)

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Bwana_Brown Mar 14, 2004 at 6:01 PM

Ah, so you have now experienced America! Welcome to the club, and don't forget to pack that spare dinner knife! A great page
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beret Jul 21, 2003 at 2:33 PM

I am shocked! Shocked I say. Not once did you mention rats so large, people ride them like dime store ponies up and down the street. Bet you bought a bunch of I(heart)NY knick knacks that never see the light of day in the backs of your friends closets.
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ExGuyParis Jan 23, 2003 at 8:58 AM

I love your writing for two reasons: 1) it is hysterical, and 2) you use the word "whilst" which one never hears uttered in America.
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Jeannette1 Jan 12, 2003 at 5:40 PM

You are one funny writer, Johnny. I am still laughing LOL
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goingsolo Oct 16, 2002 at 2:44 PM

great page. very interesting opening
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fa330 Oct 13, 2002 at 1:30 PM

Did you know that NYC makes its own gravy when it rains?
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Nanumi Oct 12, 2002 at 8:28 AM

It's a delight to read your pages - love your style !