Monday, June 1, 2009

Gilligan's Roosevelt Island

I haven't posted in a few days for a few reasons but mainly because I have been so friggin' tired. Two or three days ago Daniel and I left Carlos' house at around 5 in the morning so we could have a nice, tranquil sunrise stroll. One thing led to another and we found ourselves waiting for the Roosevelt Island tram car with no sleep under our belts.

Let me first say this: I have never been on Roosevelt Island nor have I been on the tram car. Up until two days ago this land was just a legend. Folklore. Myth. I decided to see what it was once and for all and I'm glad I did: I now know to never return unless I become a nurse practitioner (inside Roosevelt Island joke lolz, yo).

Here is Daniel as the tram car first started to soar. We both felt pretty shitty but the adrenaline pumped from the thought of a New York City tax dollar built vehicle flying through the air over a large body of water woke us up. 

Keep in mind Daniel and I are running on zero sleep and have been partying all night. For the remainder of this post I will refer to the "turd meter" to easily express how shitty we felt. It's a complicated device but I can decipher it's readings for you. With that in mind lets revisit the previous stage of our adventure and then continue:

Did I say that the tram was taking off to soar the majestic skies of New York? Sorry, I was mistaken. Turns out that was just a bunch of old women in scrubs getting on the thing and making it rock uncontrollably. We have another fifteen minutes in the sun to wait and fester in our lack of relaxation. 

At this point our Turd Reading is pretty mild. We are as 
uncomfortable as hell but more pissed off that this tin can 
won't take flight before noon.

After a long while we finally took flight. I have to say, it was pretty exciting. The closest I have ever come to this was when I took the "King Kong" ride at Universal Studios. It was a little bit more exciting though because we did something to piss him off and he jumped up and swatted the thing out of the air.

Once we got to the island we felt pretty lost. There was a red bus sitting there waiting for us. Before we could put 1 and 1 together this women literally screamed at us:


I don't know how you were raised but I was always told that strangers screaming orders at you should be completely ignored. Always. Daniel and I both felt, even though it was pretty non-threatening, listening to this wacko would only result in something horrible. In a strange way we were right. We decided to stay off the bus.

Little did we know, it's the only bus in the whole place. It comes every fifteen or twenty minutes (whenever the tram comes). To put it short, we were totally deaded in the heat of Roosevelt Island.

We took the damn bus once it came to the Island light house. I know it exists because it is in Grand Theft Auto 4. Next thing I know we are back where we started. The fucking bus went in a goddamned circle in 10 minutes. We have no photographic evidence of this because we were so frustrated. I can tell you, however, our turd reading was reaching a dangerous high.

Then it happened. We walked to the F train, our one way ticket home. We were exhausted, tired, thirsty and hungry. Never again would we have to wait for that tramcar or bus. We could put this all behind ourselves and never look back. Then we saw something we can never un-see.

The F train was not running into Manhattan. Going to Queens and back just seemed too far from where we needed to be. There was only one option left for us. 

God. I tried to post the adventure the morning of but it was all incoherent jabber. Basically, I just woke up.


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