- Quinnipiac men’s ice hockey wins home opener against UConn
- Parents Speak Up
- A college actor’s ‘dream’
- GSA seeks allies
- Taylor Swift finally took a political stance and the U.S. responded
- Less than AMAzing
- Testing their trust
- The Senior Divide
- The storm that struck the south
- Famine: The Instrument of War
New Jersey or bust: The story of one long night
People say variety is the spice of life. I agree with this, and if variety is a spice, then spontaneity is a chili pepper. I do not plan my weekend or any part of my life really. I’m in college and as my buddy Paul would say, “Can’t miss a thing.”
One Friday with nothing much happening here at the Q, Paul and I were discussing options for the night and our efforts proved fruitless, so we decided to take an impromptu trip down to Rutgers. I’m going to set the scene a little – it was a rainy day and by the time we decided to leave for Jersey it was about 11 at night.
There was another obstacle in the way of our trip – neither of us have a car at school. So we would be riding in style on the Metro-North and the New Jersey transit. Paul and I grabbed some clothes and other necessities, called a cab, and we were on our way.
You would think that Paul or I would know the train schedule; oh no that’s not how we operate. We like doing things the most difficult way possible. We lucked out and could catch a train 11:45 p.m. that would put us in New York City at about 1:40 a.m., not really enough time but as the train went along it was making good time and we thought we might have a chance at catching the last train out of New York. This is where the night begins to get interesting. The last train out of New York to Rutgers is at 1:41 so we needed to get from Grand Central to Penn station in about five minutes. If we missed the 1:41, the next train was at 5:17.
Needless to say, we missed the 1:41. We didn’t miss it by much either, we only missed it by three minutes. Paul and I live for stuff like this, we have the whole night to kill in New York City. Oh and did I mention that it was raining. Paul and I walked around New York in the rain. Since it is the city that never sleeps, we found plenty of different way to amuse ourselves.
Times Square is a spectacle onto itself. After moseying around there we headed toward Central Park. With its not so squeaky clean rep for when the sun goes down, Paul and I thought it might be best to get out of the rain. The area we ended up in was where all the high end hotels were. We needed to get out of the rain and find a bathroom. Our first choice was Trump Plaza. As soon as we walked in we felt like we were going to be kicked out and we shouldn’t be allowed to look at this place.
We decided to go all the way up to the top of the plaza. At the thirty-eighth floor there was one door it said “PH” standing for Penthouse, but there was no bathroom. We quickly went back down, although I would have loved to sit there and find out what celebrity was frequenting the penthouse in Trump Plaza. In the lobby I sat on a nice cushy couch and read Trump’s magazine. Paul inquired about a bathroom at the desk and we were quickly told to leave, but to try the Ritz Carlton next door.
At the Ritz we were lead down a marble staircase by a cleaning lady to the most elegant bathroom I’ve ever been in. Paul and I felt like we shouldn’t even be allowed to pee in there. They did have stalls, and they had rooms with large wooden doors. Since this place was so classy, we had to be classy ourselves and indulge in a refreshing Keystone Light.
Next week we’ll actually make it to Rutgers.
This is the first of a two-part article. Part Two will appear in next week’s paper.