I woke up Wednesday surprisingly well put-together considering the previous night's celebration, which was lucky considering Hanley and William had composed a schedule of authentic New York experiences ranging from tourist favorites to supernatural surprises. Before adventuring, however, Han popped over to the gym and I took some time to work, which translated into me trading frustrations with the Maryland Vehicle Administration and my auto loan company. I also learned that Tom Armstrong was in New York for the day himself, possibly summoned by Sarah Krokey's fond exhalations of his name the night before. I passed Tom the vague sketches of the day that Hanley had allowed me and he said that he'd tried to catch up after work, which marked once again an instance of me forgetting that not everyone is a jobless drifter.
Finally, it was time for the adventure to start! Hanley and I made our way downtown and found ourselves on Houston, where our first stop revealed itself: Katz's Deli, home of the famous scene from When Harry Met Sally. Anxious for what was sure to be a life-changing pastrami sandwich, I sprang through the doors and ran right into William, who'd been waiting to meet us. While pumped to be taken through a grand tour of the city, I was also thrilled to be spending the day with Hanley's fiancé. We'd met twice, once at a wedding and once for dinner after seeing Hanley and William in a show, so both times there were grander plans afoot and more folks to split our attention. Now, after placing our orders, getting a tender slice of pastrami to taste, and being presented with thick sandwiches slathered with mustard, I found myself sitting back across from the man himself and catching up casually.
William always reminds me of old Hollywood for some reason, probably because he carries Robert Redford features and an Errol Flynn smile. In conversation, he balances a sagacity (especially being a native New Yorker) with an encouraging mania; in short, he was a perfect person to talk with about my big leap. We first discussed the earlier part of his week, spent playing a Russian tough in a primetime TV drama. Then, he and Hanley asked about the book and I gave them my pitch, starting with Owen's small town life and expanding into the world he didn't know he lived in. They responded with enthusiasm and we returned to the story a few times throughout the rest of the day. It was also nice to see their relationship in its natural habitat, an adorable little world carved out of the madness of the city. They had been apart for a few days and clearly felt grateful for time together even while playing fine hosts.
After Katz's came an even bigger secret stop. Hanley and William walked me through Alphabet City in the East Village while William asked me odd questions like "Do you believe in magic?" and "Do you like candles?" Now that I know he was trying to drop vague hints, it's doubly funny that my programming kept trying to find a common ground with the weirdness: "Totally! I love magic! I went to the Magic Castle in LA once!" Our meanderings took us at last down into a below-ground shop run by honest-to-goodness wiccans, where my tour guides told me they wanted to give me an authentic underground New York experience by getting me a special candle to bless my endeavors. Apparently, William's sister had tried one to positive results, while William himself did it and wound up with more auditions than he could handle. Once the surprise was sprung, the two of them seemed worried that I might find it hokey, but I assured them that the guiding principle of the next six months is openness and that there's nothing hokey about generous intentions and concentrating positive thought. I spoke with the shopkeeper about leaving work, starting my book, and generally leaving myself exposed to the world for the time being, as well as giving my name and my sign. She told me she'd be making me the Emperor candle, which, according to the website, has the following properties:
EMPEROR
Jupiterian in nature, this candle brings recognition, builds confidence and helps to present opportunities. Calls on divine guidance and intervention to lead you in the right direction.
Can't ask for better than that, I say. The candles take about thirty minutes, so we spent the time leaving through astrology books and, at least in my case, petting the handful of cats given free reign of the store. The store itself was a mystical haven, with books lining the left wall, spices and ingredients lining the right, and a back workshop where the candles were made. They also carried assorted Day of the Dead skulls, nordic runestones, and candles shaped like male and female genitalia. At last, the shopkeeper returned with my big purple candle, thankfully candle-shaped and inscribed with my name and sign. It was a sweet and specific gift for William and Hanley to get for me and I'm excited to bring it along and find a good time to focus my energy and light 'er up.
Emerging from the magical lair, we continued our wanderings to McSorley's Old Ale House, the oldest Irish pub in New York. The floors were sawdusted, the lighting was dim, and as we entered, William order the only things they carried, light and dark beer. Not brands of light and dark. We literally ordered "Two light beers and one dark." We then sat in the cozy window table and chatted some more. I spoke about my relationship with work and about the catch-as-catch-can freelancing energy Hanley and William have to live with. As I learned when my friend Donny looped me in on some film extra work in Atlanta during my last week at Towers, never the twain shall meet. It was a comfortable few drinks and a nice, wandering conversation, fitting of the entire energy of the day.
We continued on through the Ukrainian village, with William pointing out several landmarks given his own Ukrainian heritage. We passed through NYU and entered Washington Square Park, from which we could see the Freedom Tower and Empire State building. Hanley pointed out the famous arch while William briefly joined the amorphous cloud of jugglers, regaling us with a quick routine before leaving it to the kids. I pointed out that I was fairly sure the Impractical Jokers had done some bits there, finally understanding how it is that they aren't recognizable at this point; the city is just so damn big. The energy in the park was lively and relaxed all at once, a vibe we felt even as we walked out beneath the trees on Washington Place.
My hosts led me next to White Horse Tavern, where Dylan Thomas, among other writers, threw back many's the drink. In fact, there was this haunting painting of Thomas in one of the side rooms:
We sat outside on the street through several rounds of drinks, now discussing taking chances, both in vocation and romance. I believe the topic came up when William bought another round of drinks; when I tried to pay him, he smiled, pointed to me and said, "You pay me back by going out and DOING IT!" His excitement was contagious and so followed many proclamations of artistic enthusiasm at that sidewalk table. Then, as we got up to leave (William having sneakily paid the bill inside), I met William out by the street where he professed how much he loved Hanley and that she was so good, both in general and for him. I laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, assuring him he was good for her too and that he made her very happy. Adorable booziness all around.
Our further travels come a little hazier, as we drank more than we ate, but as night fell, we found ourselves at Wilfie and Nell's, where we split an order of scotch eggs and shouted over the rowdy post-work crowd. Then came Vol de Nuit, a bar lit in deep reds and specializing in intense Belgian beer, where I finally convinced William to let me cover a round. At this point, we began winding down, as Hanley had her audition, William needed rest from the busy shooting schedule, and I had a bus to wake for. We were not too tired, however, for a late stop for artichoke pizza, which we scarfed down on the street while people-watching. I felt comfortable out and about by that point, with the night around me feeling just like an evening out in Adams Morgan back in DC. My unspoken hope for New York was realized as it no longer felt like a place I'd only seen a few blocks of at a time. I have the bug now, having seen so much and knowing it to be so little of the whole. In fact, the next day, after a quick morning chat with Hanley and a fond farewell, as we rolled away on the bus headed southbound, I felt something I'd never felt for New York, but knew very well from its usual association with Atlanta, DC, and LA: the deep, thrumming gravity of a city you know you're not done with.
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