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.