New York can be pretty weird. A lot of people are kinda cool and hip and well dressed in a slick sort of way. The others are just weird. Case in point, the fellow in the above picture selling typewritten stories hammered out on tiny paper on an actual typewriter.
Someone at Blogher told me that they thought I was a New Yorker. First I thought it was my skill at hailing a cab. Then, I figured it was my impeccable style. But, after a while I realized that it was because I’m inundated with crazy. Kookoo like cocoa puffs, loony toons in my life.
For example, I was standing at the Eden Fantasy’s booth at Blogher12. Since I’m naive, I wasn’t really sure what Eden Fantasy is (that’s the story and I’ll stick to it.) I saw that they had a jug of what looked like purple silicone earrings. I thought they looked nice, so I waited my turn to speak to the rep. My friend Randi whispered,
Those are vibrating cock rings. You want one?
Sure. Why not. It’s free.
Then, the woman next to me asked,
Excuse me. Do those come in extra large?
WHAT?
She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.
Sorry. She said with a wink.
What are you sorry for? How do you know I don’t need extra extra large cock rings? Multiple ones.
The Eden Fantasy woman picked one up and pulled on it.
No, they are one size. But, see? They stretch really big. But, congratulations.
And she winked.
AWKWARD. And, haven’t they heard? It’s not the size that matters, it’s….
I asked for extra-small. Because I don’t like big earrings.
Also spotted as crazy in New York City (or maybe as normal. I don’t get out much)
A very old, very skinny bald man on a bicycle wearing an apple green string bikini. (dang I wish I snapped that)
Four guys dressed like Julius Caesar standing in the middle of Times Square smoking.
A huge crowd of people (like thousands), including barricades and New York’s finest, waiting for Ricky Martin to exit the Disney Store across from The Lion King. (You don’t really need a picture of Ricky Martin do you? I tried, but a) I’m too short and b) his pants were too shiny for my flash).
My camera, which accidentally took this picture when I was at a party
Thanks to Julia De Paulo (@physioExcellence) and Samantha Montpetit-Huyn (@coreExpectation) for not making me delete this most excellent photo
And this one when I was just.. ummm.. holding it.
What is your name, man? Yes, you in the background with the glasses.
And then there was the near miss at customs. I’ve travelled a few times in my life, and so I should know how to fill out a Canada Customs form. I did some shopping on the Lower East Side and Soho (remind me to tell you about the two people who styled me by just looking), plus I had all the Blogher swag. I claimed ‘everything’ on my card (that I ‘had’ receipts for).
I came up to my turn at Customs and the nice man says,
You forgot to fill in your address.
He handed me and pen and I filled in the missing information.
Then, he asked me what I bought and I told him and he said OK and wrote on my card. When I handed it in at the exit, the woman pointed in the wrong direction and said,
Go to Line #1.
I mentally screeched!
Shit. I don’t want to get searched. I didn’t even lie (ish), and I don’t feel like emptying out my bags all over their search table.
Translate: I didn’t want them to pull out the three Trojan Vibrators, the dolphin and the cock ring that were in my suitcase.
I stood in line with my husband for way too many squirmy minutes. The Customs searcher asked me what I was doing in New York. I said I was at a blogging conference, and as usual, he was fascinated (what is the allure with blogging? It’s not like being an Olympic swimmer . Look at my blogger butt to confirm.)
Then, he asked,
You just went for the day?
Ah, no. I was gone all week. It says right there.
And I pointed to my card where I had written down August 7, 2012. That day. Not the day that I had left, which was August 1.
Oh.
He said,
Well, that’s why you’re here.
And he started laughing at me and waved at us to go.
I yelled over my shoulder,
Don’t you want to inspect my cock ring? (Well, no I didn’t, but wouldn’t that have been funny?)
It was my husband’s fault.
And he called back,
Isn’t it always?
Don’t you love dodging a bullet? Also, that was a mean way for the first customs guy to teach me a lesson.
What’s the funniest thing that happened to you on a vacation?
HILARIOUS!!!
And, i got video of that guy on the bike! I’ll have to upload it for you!
You did?? Please share. Please share. He was weirder than any weird. ever.
Oh, it was PRICELESS!
There was an area sectioned off, at times square for the flash mob. Then, a minute before it was due to start, he came riding through the empty area of the street. people clapped and cheered – it was epic!
You’re so lucky. I felt like I couldn’t take his picture, but he probably would have loved it.
I was in NYC this past weekend and took a ridiculous amount of photos. Of course I have one grouping of all the crazy things I saw and am planning on posting them soon. Did you see the kids in Times Square collecting money to buy weed? I didn’t see any storywriters at HighLine, too bad. Despite my name, I’d never heard of Eden’s Fantasy either. Too bad. Sounds interesting.
I think we were in a different city. Having said that, I spent very little time in touristy areas. We stayed mostly in the Lower East Side/Soho after Blogher, and during the conference didn’t venture far. I guess it’s not your fantasy…
I was definitely in NYC but not at BlogHer and we actually did stay in SoHo, frequenting most of the neighbourhoods and less of the touristy attractions but I digress. Either way, we both saw a lot of *interesting* things we don’t typically see at home. Makes life interesting.
I’d like to write something…really I would….but I’m laughing way too hard!
Well I am SO glad first of all that I skipped that Eden’s Fantasy table. Yep, not my thing:) Second that you managed to make your way through customs and THIRD that you shared yuor awesome photos with us!
Was so great to see you Mara!
Stephanie, if I’d skipped that table, I wouldn’t have the great story. I was so good to se you. I have so many more pictures to share. I’m a shutterbug.
I wish I had that guy when I got searched at customs! Serves me right for repeatedly saying, “I would LOVE to see the security guy’s face when he checks my bag.” I only had two purple boxes to “worry” about, and I got my wish! He did this red faced thing while noticeably hiding the boxes under one of the twenty canvas bags I was bringing home. I couldn’t take a pic though! *sad face* I feel like I was totally profiled for being a well-dress woman, coming from NYC after five days and only spending maybe $250 (and that was bulking up the number to include the monetary value of the product we got at the conference.) I really only spent $90 on stuff, but the first guy didn’t believe me. :/ Even told him I spent most of my days at a conference, but apparently I was supposed to get some mad shopping done on the side, lol.
LOVE your accidental shot of Mr. Buff Guy. Pulitzer winning right there.
They are so prejudiced against us at customs! Why would we lie when we can bring $800. Serves him right while searching, only I can imagine what was going on in the Customs officer chat rooms ‘Why do these ladies have so many vibrators?” I like that shot too. hehehe.
Love it. Love it all.
Love it, live it. You’re coming next time.
You were obviously so distracted by the NYC hipness/craziness that you filled in the wrong date.
I don’t have any crazy travel stories…oh wait…there was this time in Las Vegas…I was sitting in a retro burger joint in Treasure Island; I looked across the restaurant to see this guy with a giant piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth, just casually chewing it up in his mouth as he just as casually read the newspaper in front of him. (I guess?) he had taken a bite of his burger and the giant lettuce piece slipped out. (I also guess?) he didn’t want to stop reading his paper to appropriately deal with giant lettuce piece.
Not two seconds a later, a man sitting with a woman two booths down from me flipped his tray over at the woman and stormed off.
That’s Vegas, baby. That’s Vegas.
That’s pretty Vegas, Mel. Although both happens all the time at my house.