Due to a 30 in 7 (30 hours in 7 days) I was illegal to fly yesterday, as well as today, and tomorrow. WOO-HOO! So after I finished baby proofing the apartment (the munchkin will be in town next week) I spent the rest of the day wandering around my hood. That’d be in Forest Hills, which is in Queens. Oh how I love New York.
That’s a picture of The Forest Hill’s Inn (an apartment building that was once a hotel). I took this picture with my cell on the platform of the Long Island Railroad Station, which is an above ground train that will take you to Manhattan (or Long Island) in 20 minutes. I’ve actually taken this train on numerous occasions. It’s ten times nicer than the subway. Whenever I get called out in the middle of the night to cover a flight at the crack of dawn in New Jersey – every reserve flight attendants worst nightmare – I take the LIRR (Long Island Railroad). From door to airplane, that whole hellish ordeal takes about three hours. which is why when I go to bed at night during a reserve month, I’m always praying that I won’t get called out to cover a trip out of Newark. It happens more times than not. Okay, now back to the photo. The bridge connecting the two buildings is actually not a bridge, but an apartment, an apartment that’s been featured in Architectural Digest. You could say I’m a bit obsessed with it. Right around the corner from the train station is Pahal Zan, a teeny tiny fabulous restaurant that serves the best chicken pita with hummus and hot sauce I’ve ever tasted. I go there every time I’m in town. In fact, I ate there yesterday. And the day before. This is the same place where I met an interesting character named Mickey. If haven’t guessed, that’s Mickey in the photo on the right, and that photo does not do him justice. Trust me. It makes him look tough, kind of scary, like a character on The Sopranos. In real life Mickey has sexy eyes and a vibrant smile. He’s full of life and was so much fun to talk to. I’m not exactly sure what he does for a living, but it has something to do with the theater. I’m thinking off Broadway. Who knows. Anyway, after I told him a little bit about myself…okay, maybe it was a lot about myself, he suggested I turn SKYDOLL into a play. Honestly, I can’t see it. But Mickey can. When I told him I wouldn’t even know where to start, he offered to take me to a show. Hmmm….probably not a good idea. But I wouldn’t mind talking about it again over an order of babaganoush.