New York: the arrival

So I spent my Easter break in New York (sorry, Easter vacation) and, as you can probably guess, I was not an entirely happy camper. In fact, having tried to fit it into one bite-size rant, and failing miserably, I’ve decided to make this a three-parter. Oh, the suspense!

My first foray into annoyance came when we reached American security in Dublin airport and came across “Ray”, the security officer.

“Ray”, who addressed my boyfriend as “Sir”...

“Ray”, who called me by my first name...

Like we were lifelong friends.

No no, Ray.

Strike one against Americans: they’re sexist bastards.

My next clue that all Americans were going to annoy me came when a random woman in JFK airport told me to “never have surgery in Delaware”. Thanks, crazy lady, I’ll keep that in mind. Should I ever be tempted, and should it all go horribly awry, I’ll think fondly of you.

Having finally made it to the sweet sanctuary of the car, I thought I’d escaped the madness. I should have known better. Every second advertisement on the radio brought the voice of some stranger promising to get me out of debt, so I had to endure many hours of one guy trying to sell me a whole load of crap, and another guy telling me not to buy any more crap.

Strike two against Americans: they mess with your mind.

We stopped off at Cracker Barrel for food along the way. The staff sang “Happy Birthday” to twin girls. Such frivolity is lost on one as cynical and bitter as I, but a big shout-out to AJ, our very pleasant waiter, who also voiced his disdain for the sing-song celebration.

Finally, having had to tip everyone who so much as looked at us, we arrived at our destination: the New Yorker hotel on 8th Avenue. Hardly the Ritz but, with a three-star rating, I thought we’d be safe enough...

You can see where this is going.

I have never seen a more brown space: brown furniture, brown doors, brown carpet (dark brown, with light brown swirls, no less). The bathroom hadn’t been decorated since the hotel was built (MANY moons ago, I’m guessing), the walls were clearly made of paper since you could hear EVERYTHING through them, the plumbing sounded like the building was being bombed, and the wireless internet didn’t work. Indeed, its only saving grace was the wide-screen TV. And possibly the staff, who were all very friendly.

And the fact that Domino’s deliver directly to your room.

To be continued...

Sorry.