Palindrome of 24 Hours in New York = Kroy Wen ni Sruoh 42 fo Emordnilap

For Ana's birthday we went to New York, but you already know that. We took the TRAIN. That's what people did in the old days.


Like any trip, the whole purpose is to eat. First stop: Cafe Habana. Sandwich was so good that Ana took a bite even though there was a mayonnaise-like substance on it.


The best part, though, was that this guy


was there, dressed like he meant it. He seemed to be channeling Noah Taylor's character in Almost Famous. It's groups of people like this (cf. the girl on the left) that I see in New York that make me sad.

Anyways. After that we shopped or something in order to kill time before eating again, this time at Prune, which Ana's wanted to go to since she was born. And it wasn't even open then.


Up front: Prune might be the best restaurant in the world, ever. If food bores you, scroll down for depressing pictures of Coney Island.

First: radishes with butter and salt. If you gave me this dish when I was 12, I would've smacked you in the face and not apologized. Now, I order it of my own free will. It's good.


Next: kale with soft eggs in a Parmesan butter sauce. EGGS FOR DINNER, PEOPLE. This lady is breaking all the rules. Again, me at twelve would give you a punch in the nose if you set this in front of me, and again, it's good.

Next: stewed pork shoulder with salsa verde. It's served in big chunks with a spoon and it falls apart with the slightest pressure. Pork shoulder sounds like it would be stringy, but pigs are fat and their shoulders wonderfully tender.


Next: soupy rice with lobster and squid. It's a little thing, but this restaurant is good at words too. Putting "soupy rice" before "lobster" is probably some sort of unforgivable menu sin, but it's the right description and it sounds gross to you then you probably shouldn't have it anyway.



You totally got eaten. That's all the food for now.

The meal was so good that Ana left her wallet at the restaurant. Sad Ana:


But the people there are nice and found it for her. Happy Ana:

What do you do after a flawless meal? Go to the dirtiest bar in the world and take a picture of the bathroom, natch.


Coney Island is going to be blown up and sunk into the Atlantic Ocean next month, so we decided to go visit even though the Sideshows by the Seashore and Astroland are all boarded up.


Thank god this guy is keeping an eye on stuff.


Wait, this doesn't look very depressing! That ferris wheel looks fully operational. There aren't any stray dogs, even!


Ok, this'll do. Close-ups of chainlink fence are impossible to make undepressing.


Anything, however, can be made undepressing by a corndog.


Totonno's, you have chosen your fate: Shenanigan's can tell you about it.


Fact: Russians have the ability to move anywhere and Gulagify a place. Look! They sell DVDs and Videos at this jail, but they call it BNAEO NPOKAT. Weird.


BONUSBONUSBONUS: Ana on Law & Order

CHUNG CHUNG

I got to wear my cap to the ballgame

Last night was July 3rd, which in DC might as well be New Years' Eve if you're in the bar industry. So when Josh said he had tickets for the July 4th Cubs-Nats game, it seemed like a really good idea until I got home at 7 this morning. But whatever. I got a new hat, and I got to wear it.


Ana is jealous of my hat, obvs.


Interesting tidbit: in DC, every seat at the stadium is owned by some lobbying group or other. Josh got ours from Budweiser. They didn't ask for anything in return, either! Just enjoy the game, they said!


The Nationals don't have any real traditions, so they make them up. Remember? The dumbest one is called the "Waving of the Caps," wherein the PA announcer asks everybody to wave their caps. That's it.


The best part about riding your bike to the stadium, aside from feeling morally superior to everybody else, is getting to hop on and roll past thousands of people idling in their cars or waiting in line for the Metro. Not everybody understands that, though. As Ana put it, when you unlock your bike at the stadium, people look at you like you're unlocking a spaceship.

Photo Essay #12c: 72 Hours of Woot! Ca$h Money!, Final.

Then after dinner it's time to pay respects to venerable Vegas institution (HA HA THAT'S AN OXYMORON ISN'T IT HAHAHA) the Frontier, which is going to be blown up by Israelis very soon. The Frontier really is a great old place, though, full of old slot machines and Casino workers like ones in 80s movies.


Naturally, we sat down to play the horses. The mechanical horses, that is. The chances of winning are the same, but you don't have to worry about the ethical problems associated with real horse racing, because these horses are pieces of plastic. Really, I'm just assuming that there are ethical problems associated with real horse racing because I couldn't really say what they are.


Not sure if Derby is really the name or not, because the machine was being all snarky about it.


Then at 2am you all decide that it's a good idea to learn how to play craps. Why not? We're in Vegas! What happens here is learned for life! Then five hours pass and Steve has lots of money that he didn't have before, so it's time to take a shot of tequila.


Son of gun! There are different times of day outside!


I can't wait to be at work in 3 hours!