F 1 D 0 - 2004 05 28 at 0100 Fleet Week, New York City Lots and lots of people are here. Many in uniform. Marines. Sailors. Others I don't know. I've been watching the routine. It's interesting. The men are always in twos or threes or fours. Their uniforms are perfect. We asked some a moment ago, and found out this was a requirement. Women get out of taxis in twos or threes themselves, but sometimes on their own. They too are in perfect uniform. Oh, their clothes are just for going out, but still perfect, make no mistake. These women have a drink or two, and then say hi to the men in uniform. "Can you come home with us?" they ask the lady. "Oh, no, I can't do that! (giggle giggle giggle STAGGER giggle)", she says. It took different forms. One girl waited at the lights with us, and looked like she was hunting prey. Maybe she was. She caught four nice servicemen. Another one was on the lap of a nice guy in a beige outfit, kept from falling off by her breasts. That was a generous thing for the nice man to do. This journal entry is noteworthy not because of how little it is happening, but because it appears on every corner, in every cafe. Oh, not every Marine has a girl of his own, but every corner has a story to tell. This is Fleet Week. So all of the fleets have come in from port to spend Memorial Weekend with friends and family. I guess this counts as friends. Other sights tonight. We were eating at Howard Johnson's. I had a large burger, Jeff had chicken fingers. It was perfect!! But you'd never know that. The interior was old and worn, and nothing felt new. But the food was exactly as ordered, and right. Outside the HoJo's a platform was set up, and later professional lights came and lit up a dancing girl, who walked forwards and backwards. I didn't go outside to see or hear, so I'm not sure what was going on. Inside our place there was a 3-piece jazz band with vocal, bass and guitar. It was actually very gentle, very pleasant. The singer, a lady, kind of demanded to practice her singing in the men's room. "You can't go in there!" a lady friend demands. "Sure I can. Who's gonna ask me to leave?", she says. So she practices in front of the mirror. Nothing much, really, just warmup singing. She left before I left my stall. So I didn't actually recognize it was her until she began singing for performance. Then I shared (the above) with Jeff. I guess I needed to hear her singing again. She hasn't made any CDs yet, but if she had one, I would have bought it from her, as I like souvenirs with a story like that. Every business that needs traffic has people hawking their discount cards on the corners. The comedy places, the girlie places, the music places, the theatre places. All of them. One was a guy who was clearly elderly, and insisted I take a card for (something). I took it but he wouldn't take thank you and let me go on. He wanted a contribution for the card. I should have returned the card. Instead I gave him a quarter, as he wouldn't let me go. I went foraging for alcohol. But I didn't start until after 11pm. Beer and wine was available, but I didn't know what I wanted, so I didn't get anything. I would have gotten a 2oz bottle of rum for adding to diet coke, but I should have started hunting earlier. I'll head upstairs, and see how jeff is, and then start my last night time walk here in Times Square. oh! Postscipt!! Do any of you (readers) know why there are balls on the overhead wires which cross the highway? I'm not able to figure this out. I didn't see it everywhere, but noticed it in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.