Smoothie Criminal Night

When in Rome, do as Romans do. When in Bel Air, avoid silent killers. This is how we nicknamed drinks prepared by our awesome hostess, Sherry. In a typically Polish fashion, we wanted to spend the evening getting wasted on vodka. Sherry suggested that we should try what she dubbed 'Apple Martini,' a mix of apple schnapps, lemon schnapps and cranberry juice. Our first impression was that the drink resembled an innocuously refreshing smoothie rather than an alcoholic beverage. It was necessary to change our mind a couple hours later when we ended up swaying all over the place. The drink had to be re-named 'Smoothie Criminal.' Interestingly enough, there seemed to be no fixed proportions of the ingredients. Every single time, Sherry was becoming increasingly generous with the amount of schnapps poured into her shaker. The final version of 'Apple Martini' consisted of: 49% - lemon-flavored vodka, 49% - apple schanpps, 2% - cranberry juice. No wonder the next morning we discovered all the bottles had been emptied.

In the picture: Kowal with a Charles Bronson expression and Sherry as a Mexican cowwoman

We Don't Iron in America

Have you seen at least one episode of ‘Desperate Housewives?’ If so, you know what Wisteria Lane looks like. Houses constructed in a homogenous style, perfectly cut grass, white fences.

We’ve found our Wisteria Lane in Bel Air, Maryland. Having just left the smelly and filthy streets of the Big Apple, we couldn’t believe our eyes when we saw dozens of uniform brightly-colored houses made of wood and bricks, with lawns which always look as though they’ve just been mowed although you seldom get to see anyone actually mowing them. It turns out the ‘Desperate Housewives’ architecture would not look far different if the series was filmed here rather than in the Universal Studios. We’ve been thinking if there is any special zoning plan that prevents people from building houses of a different sort. I wonder if I would be expelled from the community if I erected a gold mosque-like residence with cheesy garden gnomes and alligator sculptures. In the front yards of these typically American developments, you can frequently see the national flag waving haughtily in the air. And if someone wants to be elected a sheriff, a governor, a senator or whatever else (people constantly campaign for some position here), they will probably have a double digit number of flags attached to their house or standing in the garden as if this vigorous display was supposed to make them better politicians. If you want to be chosen a sheriff, don’t even think of embarking on your campaign unless your front yard shows everyone around what a great patriot you are.

Since Americans love coming up with new reasons to call the police, thus proving what cooperative and perceptive citizens they are, our hosts, Sherry and Jeff, sent an e-mail to all their neighbors, saying that they should not be alarmed if they see some strangers strolling around thier house within the next few days. Our presence still evoked some interest, though. On the very first day, while walking around the area and taking some pics, a guy riding his bike went past a couple of times before he plucked up the courage to approach us. ‘So … uh … you guys are living here?’ he started clumsily. When it turned out that we were staying at his neighbors’ house, the BMX rider seemed relieved but somewhat disappointed, as well. He might have seen a tad too much of ‘CSI Miami’ and hoped that he would become a local hero by reporting high-risk strangers to the police or even catching them in the act of stealing a lawn-mower, a crime which is probably the most virulent one the local community has to face.

Inside, Sherry and Jeff’s house looks as if it was taken care of by Bree Van de Kamp. I’m sure Sherry would object to this comparison but still, there’s more than a grain of truth to it. The mansion resembles a museum, yet one with a soul to it. Everything has been planned to the minutest detail and our hosts are ready for any situation, ranging from a hurricane to the attack of killer shrews. If you wake up in the middle of the day and, like a pregnant woman, suddenly think you would like to have an Azerbaijani chicken with broccoli imported from Somalia, you will probably find both somewhere within the house. While Sherry was showing us around the house, we learned a couple of facts on the country and its everyday life. Kowal (aka The Mysterious Marauder) asked where we could find an iron and a board. ‘Oh, we don’t iron in America.’

UPDATE: the house is no longer a museum. Sherry and Jeff’s six-year-old son has come back.

Triple happiness

Being capable of locating bus stations in NY is quite an accomplishment, especially given the fact that private carriers may provide wrong directions at their own websites. It took some time and some strolling in the burning sun to find the place where we could board a bus headed for Wilmington. As soon as we managed to find the strip of the street (to call it a station would be an overstatement) where the bus was about to stop and pick up some passengers, we were approached by a Vietnamese woman (all right, she might have been Korean or Cambodian; but we don't care, now do we?) claiming to be a ticket seller. Searching for any sort of an office proved futile. She was sitting on the sidewalk, in front of a long-closed hotel whose front door was barred with planks. The name of the coach company was Double Happyness (yes, they really spelled it HappYness) and she struck us as a self-proclaimed representative of the firm. I guess you could call her 'Key Account Manager.' We were reluctant to give her any money cause she had no document confirming her affiliations with the company. We explained that poor and disorientated tourists from Poland, who had seen big cities like NY only on black&white TV, need to be bamboozlement-conscious. Our decision was to wait for the bus to come and ask the driver whether the lady was selling legitimate tickets. You would understand our suspicion if you had seen that woman (who looked like a crossbreed of a beggar and a street market vendor) and the tickets, full of enigmatic Asian signs and looking as if they had been printed with the cheapest device available on the market. Our lack of trust was like a slap in her face. She seemed seriously insulted while saying in her moo-shu-pork accent: 'I work here 10 years.' So why the heck does your English still suck? When the bus finally arrived, it turned out that our beggar was indeed a worker of Double HappYness. She felt so offended that she didn't want to sell us the tickets. Apparently, her English is not the only thing that sucks. The company needs to consider organizing a customer service workshop for its employees. In the end, though, we hopped on the bus and arrived in Wilmington some time later. It was triple happYness.

A night walk in Harlem

That's what green-horns and wannabe-gangstas do to prove their worth. Not as hazardous as one might think. We appeared to be the only whites in the whole neighbourhood. Nobody seemed curious about our presence there, though. We didn't get killed. We didn't get stabbed. We weren't roasted like chickens and eaten for lunch (metaphor). Our bravery and stamina let us survive. Stereotypes suck. Harlem FTW.

Some New Yorkers wish bedbugs would suck off fat, not blood

During today's exhaustive 10-hour walk along NYC streets, I made a number of profound (naturally) observations:

- It's not a myth - Americans are effin' fat. And the more obese you are, the less you seem to care about that. The more fat you carry on your poor legs, the more likely you are to be seen at McDonald's counter ordering a quadruple Big Mac and an XXXXL cup of Coke. Some "ladies" out there appear to have boobs not only at the front part of their bodies, but at the back, as well.

- "If I can make it here, I'll make it anywhere," sang Frank Sinatra. He might have been right about that, no denying. However, if you wanted to adjust it to the 21st century reality, you would need to say: if you don't get ill here, you'll be immune to cold anywhere. On a summer day, you get attacked interchangeably by two different forces: 1) menopause-like heatwaves from all sorts of vehicles, sewage drains and a couple of other sources which my understanding of technology doesn't let me name; 2) Arctic cold from air-conditioners in shops, even shitty ones which, theoretically speaking, shouldn't even be able to afford this technological luxury.

- except for Upper East Side (Gossip Girl, hell yeah), Central Part and 5th Avenue, the streets look like a fucking dump. Why not just drop litter in the street if it's kinda hard to locate a bin?

- NYC might seem glamorous (bullshit) to someone whose impression thereof is based on TV series depicting hip and fashionable lifestyle of upper-classmen, but it doesn't mean that the city is free of mundane problems. Right now what bothers New Yorkers most is bedbugs. You might have heard that NYC is replete with these tiny creatures which appreciate the warmth and coziness of private homes, hotels, guesthouses, etc. In the past, they used be associated with dirt and poverty. Apparently, though, bedbugs are pretty much like humans insofar as they appreciate and aim at luxury. They have recently infested Upper East Side. The owners of the most prestigious and desirable NY apartments have turned into bedbug queens and kings. If you arrive here as a tourist, it's worth skimming through bedbug registry, where you can find out if there has been any complaints about a given hotel being invaded. And you are more than likely to find such complaints. What to do then? Don't stay in any hotel. Opt for Central Park, instead.

- For us, intolerant, Catholic (yeah, sure) and homophobic bastards from Eastern Europe, this city seems freakin' tolerant and liberal. We were walking down the 8th Avenue (nearly inner downtown, not some sucky outskirts) and realizing gradually that it was some kind of a gay/lesbian paradise. Rainbow flags everywhere, shop-windows with pants saying "legalize gay," etc. The best part by far was the fact that there was a stand with free-of-charge papers on every corner. The most conspicuous of them was defo "Gay City." We took 3 copies;D If you want to receive 1 as a gift, lemme know. Make it snappy, though. I expect a lot of applicants. Don't know the content of the paper yet but I expect it covers a wide array of subjects. I'll try to update you on that next time.
- Slavery still exists. It has only been adjusted to new political systems.

Quote of the Day (for Polish speakers only):
- Jadziem?
- Ja to bym bardziej siadziem.
- Nie dziadziem, stary.