Corey and Michael double-team a 151 foot chick

New York

Once we had finished studying for the exam we had always planned to add an element of adventure to our lives here in New York. I’d been living in Brooklyn, within view of the Manhattan skyline, for five weeks now but hadn’t seen anything of note in New York, except for a brief visit to Times Square. After another week of procrastinating and sleeping in, it was decided a trip to the Statue of Liberty was in order.

Visiting Liberty Island, home of the statue, is a simple matter of buying a ferry ticket at Battery Point, lining up for an hour in the humid, hundred degree weather before getting on the ferry, waiting another half hour until the ferry fills up so much that the other large annoying sweaty tourists are forced to press up against you, and then a short 10 minute ride to disembark at Liberty Island dock.

This is where most people come unstuck. A little-advertised fact about visiting the Statue is that to go up to the base, you need a ticket, which is ordered online at least two days in advance. Hawkins and I had done our research, and felt superior to the other furious tourists yelling at the guard as we strolled into the large white security tent at the entrance to the base. That was where our feeling of superiority dissipated.

The air in the tent was thick; thick with waiting. A lonely fan turned in the middle of the tent, cooling the air for the small percentage of the dozens of people who were lucky enough to wait under it. For the rest of us, it was a torturous wait, worse than any previous wait we’d had during the day. After what seemed like an hour and a half, but was closer to an eternity, we went though the final set of metal detectors and penetrated the lady of liberty.

For what it is worth, I’d say it was worthwhile. It was a great view, and now I can stay I’ve been there. For Hawkins, who had been struggling with the lack of adequate facilities, it wasn’t quite as pleasant, but we both decided it was worth it.

On our way out, we saw that where there was once lines stretching back into the distance, there was nothing but bored security guards. My advice for anyone wanting to visit New York’s most famous landmark, do it after three in the afternoon, you’ll stroll straight in.

Angry Dave arrives in Brooklyn, wakes Corey up
The Tuesday after our adventure in Atlantic City (see Hawkins’ blog), I was have a pleasant morning lie in when I was awakened by a furious knocking on the door. Angry Dave had arrived from Australia, ten hours later than planned. He was saying he was furious, as his plane had been delayed in Los Angeles, or something like that. I was only half listening, as I was looking for something to substitute for pants. Maybe it’s unusual, but I feel uncomfortable talking to a guy while pantless.

We went to our local café for breakfast, afterwards Angry Dave passed out on my bed.

Four hours later, Hawkins and I had decided Angry Dave had slept enough, and that he needed alcohol. We bundled him into a shower while we sipped a couple of eighty cent Coronas from our local supermarket. Once we was done, we headed off to Lombardi’s pizza restaurant in Little Italy.

As usual, there was a wait at Lombardi’s, even after nine on a Tuesday night. We sat at the bar, having a refreshing beer, when a group of four came in asking for a table. Angry Dave and Hawkins both kept looking over at the group waiting nearby, while I sneakily poured the rest of the pitcher of beer into my glass.

Angry Dave: Is that who I think it is?
Hawkins: I’m pretty sure that’s Kirsten Dunst!

I was dubious, but after a couple of subtle (but obvious) stares, I had to agree with the boys. Our table was then called, and as our waitress led us away, Kirsten and her crew took our seats at the bar. I’m pretty sure she deliberately took my stool.

Lines such as “When else are you going to get a chance to bone Kirsten Dunst?”, “I hear she loves Aussie guys,” and “Just go say something to her,” were constantly thrown at me during the meal, which was delicious by the way. It would be nice to have friends that either didn’t rely on me for laying the groundwork with the ladies, or once I had done all the lead in work, then didn’t proceed to cut me down in front of them. There was little incentive to go through the whole process again, this time with a celebrity. Finally I said I would, but stalled for time by going to the bathroom, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make me sound retarded. Unfortunately, I didn’t come up with anything, and decided to wing it. We walked through the main room of the restaurant, looking for Kirsten, but alas, they had gone.

And that was the time I almost shagged Kirsten Dunst.