Two years ago, in Sept. '04, the Roommate took me to NYC for my birthday; it was my fist time there as an adult. Although we had planned on going to all the museums and doing the sigh-seeing thing we only managed to visit a few of the many attractions, Central Park being one. So this short story is about just that day.
We went to the park early in the day, say mid morning, and the Roommate wanted to see the park via horse drawn carriage. It being late September, the weather was perfect for an open carriage ride around the park. As we neared Tavern on the Green we were approached by a beautiful young man with blond hair and a Russian accent who asked if we were interested in a bicycle-rickshaw ride around the park, to which the Roommate informed him that we had our hearts set on a carriage ride. The nice (looking) young man politely informed us that carriage rides were much more expensive than his offering and that the horse-drawn carriages were limited to only certain portions of the park, and that since he didn't have anything else going on that day, we could negotiate for however long we liked. Well, what we liked was this nice young Russian, so in the carriage we climbed.
Roman, our driver (?) was very informative about all the sights in the park and all the different parts of the park to see. We posed as he took our photo and enjoyed great times for several hours. Roman told us all about himself, his beautiful girlfriend (even had a photo) and offered to take us anywhere we wanted---for no extra charge---even Time Square! So we took him up on it, imagine NYC rush hour in a bicycle-powered contraption! Roman asked us if we wanted him to take us to a genuine vodka room, so we of course answered to the affirmative: Yes, Roman, take us to the Vodka Room! There we sipped many vodkas and enjoyed many laughs with our new Russian friend. Then we realized how late it was and that we had tickets to a Broadway show shortly, so we bid our new friend adieu, after exchanging phone numbers, of course. We went to the show (Hairspray, front row center) and as we exited the theater, who did we see in the street with his bicycle rickshaw, but Roman, squiring 2 middle aged ladies around the theater district. The Roommate called out and ran to Roman, who of course recognized him since it had only been a few hours since our parting, and let me tell you, those ladies didn't so much like the Roommate welching in on their Roman time. It was a crazy end to a crazy-fun day, and one of my favorite memories from that trip.
Fast forward to just before Christmas 2006: the Roommate is exchanging e-mail with some friends who had moved from Portland to Minnesota, Lisa and Don. They tell him they are heading to New York City for Christmas so the Roommate give them Roman's cell number and tell them to call him for a good time in Central Park. Well, we haven't heard the story yet but this photo popped up in the Roommate's inbox today. Our friend Lisa in Roman's bike-thingie. I can't wait to hear the story.
If you're ever going to NYC ask for Roman's number, good times, good times.
2 comments:
See, I can always tell when you're making these stories up. They always start with something questionable like your being an adult. :-)
You meet great people wherever you go. Ever think that might have something to do with how great you are?
Ok, first problem with NotBeta blogger,it ate this post from iamnot:
See, I can always tell when you're making these stories up. They always start with something questionable like your being an adult. :-)
You meet great people wherever you go. Ever think that might have something to do with how great you are?
My responses is that it's the Roommate who meets these people, without him this would be one boring blog.
Post a Comment