On my way to my place I stopped off at a diner. In this diner I decided to talk to the people that so dedicatedly served me at 2am on a Wednesday night. Many people have hopes and dreams and goals, from the young immigrant going to community college and the old lady struggling to survive longing for her childhood memories of distant Greece.
The question I had been struggling with is where do I necessarily fit in this picture. In the global sense, how do I connect with these people that make up America. It then occurred to me that my interest in finance could actually benefit them. If I were to become a fund manager, I could make the dreams and hopes of the wealthy and not so wealthy come true. If I consistently beat the market and knew how to manage risks well. The Greek retirement and decent grad school could be realized.
In this I found that by learning about those that I don't talk to on a day to day basis lends to some self realizations.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Epilogue:Sascha. Pacha, Gotcha
While wandering around the street we happened upon a curious place called KFC. Simply stated go to Kennedy Fried Chicken, revelation of the night.
Stamford Rack-n-Roll: Wacky Wednsday 7/25
In the land of commuters nothing hits the spot like a wacky Wednesday company social event. Rack-n-roll is your standard pool hall. Its interior is nice littered with well maintained tables xm radio for music, all very standard. Its not the place that grabs you, its the people. If you were at a restaurant and the waiters makes sure your glass is a bottomless pit always filled with beverage, and is amicable you tip well. Rack -n'- roll is the waiter that pulls out all the stops. The service is top notch , while the draught selection is limited its does a good job of maintaining a selection of cheap but tasty beers. Showing its ability to serve the masses of alcoholic beverage consumers they also keep a quality selection of alcohol on hand and can make a good Zombie.
If you want to hangout in the commuter town, shoot some pool, and have a few drinks, Rack-n- roll isn't a decision you need to make . Just go.
If you want to hangout in the commuter town, shoot some pool, and have a few drinks, Rack-n- roll isn't a decision you need to make . Just go.
Sasha, Pacha, Gotcha
Light flickers on and off as I'm rocked gently, back and forth. I soon become acutely aware of the growing sensation that I might not be riding on the Metro North line, that I'm really a patient in a psych ward. However, I'm knocked into reality when I recognize all the familiar trappings of the Metro North commute.
Club Pacha isn't the Metro North line, but its close. If you ride the Metro North for the first time you're immediately captivated by its spacious seating arrangement , wood paneling, and its shiny burgundy leather seats. Then in minutes of sitting reality settles. You notice the seats are not exactly quality leather and the wood paneling is really making you feel cramped. Pacha does the exact same thing for $30 you see a mob of people, listen to clean acoustics of the building a perfect arena for randomness. You think that you have arrived, then reality settles , you immediately become aware of the wood paneling. However, this time the paneling moves and elbows, for a lack of space.
Once you've gotten comfortable and the Metro North is moving the burps and hiccups prevent the ride from being entirely enjoyable, but it does get you were you're going with relative ease. Pacha upholding club tradition, is trite has two floors, and it lends itself,if can tolerate it to good acoustics, club ratio, and horribly expensive bottom barrel alcohol ; at $10 for Capitol Gin.
Sure Metro North has its downsides, but the personality of NY commuters is riotously entertaining. If you don't just enjoy the comforts of your dreams, the commuters make the ride enjoyable. Pacha is a ride that will take you were you wanna go,but without any personality. There are other ways to travel and I prefer those.
Club Pacha isn't the Metro North line, but its close. If you ride the Metro North for the first time you're immediately captivated by its spacious seating arrangement , wood paneling, and its shiny burgundy leather seats. Then in minutes of sitting reality settles. You notice the seats are not exactly quality leather and the wood paneling is really making you feel cramped. Pacha does the exact same thing for $30 you see a mob of people, listen to clean acoustics of the building a perfect arena for randomness. You think that you have arrived, then reality settles , you immediately become aware of the wood paneling. However, this time the paneling moves and elbows, for a lack of space.
Once you've gotten comfortable and the Metro North is moving the burps and hiccups prevent the ride from being entirely enjoyable, but it does get you were you're going with relative ease. Pacha upholding club tradition, is trite has two floors, and it lends itself,if can tolerate it to good acoustics, club ratio, and horribly expensive bottom barrel alcohol ; at $10 for Capitol Gin.
Sure Metro North has its downsides, but the personality of NY commuters is riotously entertaining. If you don't just enjoy the comforts of your dreams, the commuters make the ride enjoyable. Pacha is a ride that will take you were you wanna go,but without any personality. There are other ways to travel and I prefer those.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Notice: Apologies
First and foremost I must apologize to you the unsuspecting reader. I have violated your trust and faith. You put your faith in my ability to post in timely manner and provide you with interesting tales of life. The reason was asinine. I had planned a grand unveiling of features , an interactive version that included audio and images moving, a freak show in its entirety. It was yesterday, that I came to my senses . I should place less emphasis in externally scoping other's view of these stories and improve my writing technique and style to pull you into my world. I won't abandoned you again.
-Zane
-Zane
Prologue: SONO hands in the ruck(England 1- US 0)
Prologue: SONO hands in the ruck(England 1- US 0)
With the night being done and slowly beginning to slip into a haze. I instinctively find someone with a good smoke to aid in my sobriety. Lo and behold it was Tory(UK guy) that came to my rescue and let me bum a good cigarette. Dunhill International, one of the smoothest cigarette's you can find. In the cool crisp night the less than sober people began to rouse themselves to mosey over to the door.
"Dunhillll's Dunhilll's Dunhill's don't taste good at all",booms a late exiter.
" I dunno Dunhill's are pretty fuckin' good cigarette", I state succinctly.
"American cigarettes suck," the Tory says aggressively.
"Not Native American Spirits, Native American Spirits are a Good Fucking Cigarette",I say with patriotic authority.
Not holding back and with a certain air of unwarranted arrogance the Patriot says, "I think that all American cigarettes suck, even Native American Spirits,"
Full of disdain I say,"Fine then lets have a fucking scrum and settle this".
We line up in position he gripped my shoulder and I gripped his. Thoughts of patriotism race through my mind. My heart beat just a little bit faster. I must defend America. He had defiled my beloved Native American cigarettes. They give back to Native American charities, Ryan Adams smokes them, and they're organic. How dare he challenge all that Native American cigarettes stand for.
"Crouch,Touch,Hold,Engage", I roared.
Shit, I can't get a grip in my work shoe. SOB I'm sliding backwards. Fuck! I lost. I don't believe this. End of match. I play it off friendly like, but inside I'm wreathing. I'm told that I looked visibly angry. However, I'm always civil and a loss is a loss. Sorry America.
This ended the social. I sat by my car drinking water and gazing at the railroad tracks. Work the next morning was fun.
Lesson learned if your in a scrum always , always wear shoes with grip.
With the night being done and slowly beginning to slip into a haze. I instinctively find someone with a good smoke to aid in my sobriety. Lo and behold it was Tory(UK guy) that came to my rescue and let me bum a good cigarette. Dunhill International, one of the smoothest cigarette's you can find. In the cool crisp night the less than sober people began to rouse themselves to mosey over to the door.
"Dunhillll's Dunhilll's Dunhill's don't taste good at all",booms a late exiter.
" I dunno Dunhill's are pretty fuckin' good cigarette", I state succinctly.
"American cigarettes suck," the Tory says aggressively.
"Not Native American Spirits, Native American Spirits are a Good Fucking Cigarette",I say with patriotic authority.
Not holding back and with a certain air of unwarranted arrogance the Patriot says, "I think that all American cigarettes suck, even Native American Spirits,"
Full of disdain I say,"Fine then lets have a fucking scrum and settle this".
We line up in position he gripped my shoulder and I gripped his. Thoughts of patriotism race through my mind. My heart beat just a little bit faster. I must defend America. He had defiled my beloved Native American cigarettes. They give back to Native American charities, Ryan Adams smokes them, and they're organic. How dare he challenge all that Native American cigarettes stand for.
"Crouch,Touch,Hold,Engage", I roared.
Shit, I can't get a grip in my work shoe. SOB I'm sliding backwards. Fuck! I lost. I don't believe this. End of match. I play it off friendly like, but inside I'm wreathing. I'm told that I looked visibly angry. However, I'm always civil and a loss is a loss. Sorry America.
This ended the social. I sat by my car drinking water and gazing at the railroad tracks. Work the next morning was fun.
Lesson learned if your in a scrum always , always wear shoes with grip.
SONO Part 3 (7/11) : Not NYC but Free mostly
Chased by the demons that control time, we migrated again to Oneil's.
"Oneil's is a dive bar, I mean everyone goes there",an oblivious Gingerman waitress.
Excited by the unlikely prospect of going to a dive bar, I increased my gait and found myself at a posing Irish pub Oneil's. Irish pubs are not all about having the drinks its also got to have all of the personality. Oneil's lacks Irish pub personality in my opinion, and trades it for cheap drinks and a more casual atmosphere. The crowd is that of your standard younger crowd with a decent mix of people. The music wasn't really playing, it was karaoke night. But overall Oneil's gets the stamp of approval as not being an excellent bar but good enough to provide an affordable good time. Despite its affordability one could only wish for a good music,spirits and beer selection. A formulaic bar to end the night at or spend the night at take your pick.
"Oneil's is a dive bar, I mean everyone goes there",an oblivious Gingerman waitress.
Excited by the unlikely prospect of going to a dive bar, I increased my gait and found myself at a posing Irish pub Oneil's. Irish pubs are not all about having the drinks its also got to have all of the personality. Oneil's lacks Irish pub personality in my opinion, and trades it for cheap drinks and a more casual atmosphere. The crowd is that of your standard younger crowd with a decent mix of people. The music wasn't really playing, it was karaoke night. But overall Oneil's gets the stamp of approval as not being an excellent bar but good enough to provide an affordable good time. Despite its affordability one could only wish for a good music,spirits and beer selection. A formulaic bar to end the night at or spend the night at take your pick.
SONO Part 2 (7/11) : Not NYC but Free mostly
Feeling a bit warmer and more amicable, the crowd of co-workers began talk of moving on. Like the early settlers going West, we lost some people along the way, but by and large we made it to one of SONO's classier bars Ginger Man.
Encompassed by small candles enclosed in small glass containers. The tiny flames and small close quarters made the bar feel warm and inviting. Myself and several others sat and ordered our drinks(magic hat #9). I noticed that this crowd reminded me of the intro to Weeds, all of them headed down traveled paths. Despite this the music played was indistinguishable and really didn't provide much for the atmosphere. Even a balanced gender ratio and fairly young crowd couldn't remove the glaring fact that most of them were little boxes made out of ticky tacky that all looked the same.
Some what bored with the atmosphere I enjoyed some conversations then went to network with bosses and the like. Overall this was a bar that you'd want to go into and basically let your freak flag fly. By the by it did have an amazing beer and liquor selection, a particularly good selection of scotches some nice 25yr old single malts.
Its the perfect place to drink good alcohol and sit and let your thoughts escape, to watch the masses of drones interact.
Encompassed by small candles enclosed in small glass containers. The tiny flames and small close quarters made the bar feel warm and inviting. Myself and several others sat and ordered our drinks(magic hat #9). I noticed that this crowd reminded me of the intro to Weeds, all of them headed down traveled paths. Despite this the music played was indistinguishable and really didn't provide much for the atmosphere. Even a balanced gender ratio and fairly young crowd couldn't remove the glaring fact that most of them were little boxes made out of ticky tacky that all looked the same.
Some what bored with the atmosphere I enjoyed some conversations then went to network with bosses and the like. Overall this was a bar that you'd want to go into and basically let your freak flag fly. By the by it did have an amazing beer and liquor selection, a particularly good selection of scotches some nice 25yr old single malts.
Its the perfect place to drink good alcohol and sit and let your thoughts escape, to watch the masses of drones interact.
SONO Part 1 (7/11) : Not NYC but Free mostly
In this sleepy town in western CT, I work and play. On this auspicious night I did both. I explored for the first time the single street of bars that comprise of SONO
At the stroke of 5, I embarked on a journey. I left the office for the first stop of the company social night, The Brew House. The Brew House is a large off-white building located slightly off of the main strip of bars and resturaunts. Although, it is slightly off of the beaten path, its placement across from the railroad tracks that cut through town, gives it a more tangible feeling of being in a populated New England town.
As I entered the building, I was greated by an expansive resturaunt area with a quaint side bar. The side bar was semi-empty but filled with volpine eyes. A pack of wolves readily devouring its prey and ready to defend their territory with harsh comments for those that weren't in the pack. It was a brew house with a slightly disappointing tap selection.
Seeing this and expecting little other than consuming booze at the company's expense, I carried on and climbed my way up two flights of stairs to find the social event room. Here the hardwood floors of the brew house and its high ceilings give it a real brewery feel. This design choice becomes more evident with the lighting and barrel decorations.
Carefully, I make my trite greetings and put on my facade of normalcy and quickly make my way to the small enclosure where they were handing out the poison. To my suprise they had good beer on tap. Some of which I hadn't tried but some of my favorites like Rogue Dead Guy Ale, Sam Adams and Heifweissen to name a few. The beer of the night you could say was the Apple Lambic. The Apple Lambic is a beer that taste just like a cider and tastes a bit too sweet, but is impressive.
Instantly the upper level showed that the possiblity of locals and strangers co-existing could exist, but on separate floors of course. You just have to move them a floor apart.
Overall, brew house although limited in some areas isn't a bad place for a couple of friends to start their evening in a light atmosphere after work.
At the stroke of 5, I embarked on a journey. I left the office for the first stop of the company social night, The Brew House. The Brew House is a large off-white building located slightly off of the main strip of bars and resturaunts. Although, it is slightly off of the beaten path, its placement across from the railroad tracks that cut through town, gives it a more tangible feeling of being in a populated New England town.
As I entered the building, I was greated by an expansive resturaunt area with a quaint side bar. The side bar was semi-empty but filled with volpine eyes. A pack of wolves readily devouring its prey and ready to defend their territory with harsh comments for those that weren't in the pack. It was a brew house with a slightly disappointing tap selection.
Seeing this and expecting little other than consuming booze at the company's expense, I carried on and climbed my way up two flights of stairs to find the social event room. Here the hardwood floors of the brew house and its high ceilings give it a real brewery feel. This design choice becomes more evident with the lighting and barrel decorations.
Carefully, I make my trite greetings and put on my facade of normalcy and quickly make my way to the small enclosure where they were handing out the poison. To my suprise they had good beer on tap. Some of which I hadn't tried but some of my favorites like Rogue Dead Guy Ale, Sam Adams and Heifweissen to name a few. The beer of the night you could say was the Apple Lambic. The Apple Lambic is a beer that taste just like a cider and tastes a bit too sweet, but is impressive.
Instantly the upper level showed that the possiblity of locals and strangers co-existing could exist, but on separate floors of course. You just have to move them a floor apart.
Overall, brew house although limited in some areas isn't a bad place for a couple of friends to start their evening in a light atmosphere after work.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Epilogue: Common Ground: Queen of E23
It being my friend HC's birthday we left at 4am. After a semi hard night of drinking, we completed an epic journey for food, then subsequently parted ways. Instead of going to crash at a friends place, I took the road less traveled and decided to stay up for the 7am metro-north.
Walking with fervorous passion and devotion, I moved from Avenue A to 2nd Avenue. My feet pounding the pavement with a gorilla-like authority, I decided to find another diner closer the GCT. To my shock I found nothing for blocks and blocks until I found her the most quaint looking diner ever (Fascist lies).
A Gnat flying into the light , I was drawn by such elegant and bold lettering, CAFE & DINER E23. The euphoric bliss of feeding my liver poison fading, I knew exactly what I needed. I needed fries and coffee with cream to ease the stomach. As usual I sat down listening to the conversations around me looking for the one interesting person in the place; to as Aristotle would say to learn from those that profess to have knowledge. Lo and behold I looked across my table and found tuft of gray hair, hazel eyes, and seemingly ghost-like sagacious skin(wrinkles) giving ghetto hand shakes to youth of the Clockwork Orange variety(without the stabbing of course). I found the person I was seeking. I then walked over having nothing better to do and asked to join her.
Gladys quietly awaited my spiel. I asked common questions like why are you sitting here full of sobriety at 4:30am in the morning? To which she responds with a heavy NY accent with a distant look in her eyes, "This is what I do. I save the youth, they come in here and try and act crazy but they respect me. Everyone here knows me. I'm like the common grandma."
Walking with fervorous passion and devotion, I moved from Avenue A to 2nd Avenue. My feet pounding the pavement with a gorilla-like authority, I decided to find another diner closer the GCT. To my shock I found nothing for blocks and blocks until I found her the most quaint looking diner ever (Fascist lies).
A Gnat flying into the light , I was drawn by such elegant and bold lettering, CAFE & DINER E23. The euphoric bliss of feeding my liver poison fading, I knew exactly what I needed. I needed fries and coffee with cream to ease the stomach. As usual I sat down listening to the conversations around me looking for the one interesting person in the place; to as Aristotle would say to learn from those that profess to have knowledge. Lo and behold I looked across my table and found tuft of gray hair, hazel eyes, and seemingly ghost-like sagacious skin(wrinkles) giving ghetto hand shakes to youth of the Clockwork Orange variety(without the stabbing of course). I found the person I was seeking. I then walked over having nothing better to do and asked to join her.
Gladys quietly awaited my spiel. I asked common questions like why are you sitting here full of sobriety at 4:30am in the morning? To which she responds with a heavy NY accent with a distant look in her eyes, "This is what I do. I save the youth, they come in here and try and act crazy but they respect me. Everyone here knows me. I'm like the common grandma."
After saying this I tried to gather some inkling of who she was and how she had come to be sitting in the dinner every morning from 2am-6am counseling the youth. Being rather curious I asked her about her 20s , I assumed she was perhaps once a little-child running wild . But that was not the case at all, plain lady with plain parents, married then knocked up at 21, there was no time for blogs like this. After some time and an obscene amount of simple sentences and distant looks, I gathered her philosophy on life.
The philos according to the Queen of E23 Diner : Education doesn't mean anything , if you believe it you can achieve. If you want anything out of life you've got take it.
Damn that was contrived after nearly an 1hr 30min of strange conversation, I parted ways said God Bless and she left me with a ghetto hand shake and a message: Always keep an open mind. This has obviously served her well(65-67yrs) although, not graduating from any level school she managed to not be ignorant. Her existence proves that education is not necessary to avoid being a ignorant jack-ass. I then sauntered to GCT and waited for the metro satisfied.
-Z to the izzo
The philos according to the Queen of E23 Diner : Education doesn't mean anything , if you believe it you can achieve. If you want anything out of life you've got take it.
Damn that was contrived after nearly an 1hr 30min of strange conversation, I parted ways said God Bless and she left me with a ghetto hand shake and a message: Always keep an open mind. This has obviously served her well(65-67yrs) although, not graduating from any level school she managed to not be ignorant. Her existence proves that education is not necessary to avoid being a ignorant jack-ass. I then sauntered to GCT and waited for the metro satisfied.
-Z to the izzo
Fighting for Common Ground Pt 1. (Zanestyle)
The Common Ground, the first post to this modern tale of debauchery, that will come to color my 20s. Sandwiched between buildings of no consequence Common Ground gives refuge to the socially dysfunctional everywhere. Upon entering the Common Ground one is greeted with the quite atmosphere of a somewhat middle class albeit crowded sports bar. The warmth of a dimly lit environment coupled by a discordant soundtrack provides the ideal back drop for its fierce drunken board gaming arena.
Despite having a personality like the guy from the Clear Eyes commercials, the bar has some redeeming qualities. It shines with its drink offerings( $5 drafts and $9 or less mix drinks) and albeit a cute bartender or two. The ratio is thin (1:1) forcing a Tarzan and Jane kind of approach if your looking for that kind of thing. Overall I'd rate this bar a decent find if your looking for late 20s crowd and a way to start your evening. Otherwise simply take a clothes hanger and you know....
--Zane
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)