The Open Matt Project

Wistful Thinking

I'm back at the AnyWWWhere cafe. I got the name wrong. It's actually "Kudo Beans" and it's on 4th St. and 1st Ave. I am totally in love with this place. Too bad I'm leaving tomorrow. I also love FriendHouse, an "asian" restaurant on 3rd. FriendHouse actually serves Chinese, Thai, and Japanese food - and it's all good. Real good.

Last night I had a FriendHouse Special Roll - Eel wrapped with Tuna, salmon, tempura flakes and I think chives in a rice roll held together with a very thin film of what I think was egg. The whole thing was resting in a mildly spicy curry sauce and I kid you not it was delicious. I have never in my life even heard of a place that will sell both Chinese and Japanese food and this place does both excellently. Amazing, and I will actually miss it when I go.

I'm glad that I haven't bothered to write that much about what I've seen until now. Most of what I would have said would have been "nothing is the same as it used to be," so I'm going to skip all of that and just jump to what is still the same.

My old Junior High School is still there. It's a filthy brown concrete bunker in what used to be a shitty neighborhood in what is now called Chelsea. It may have always been Chelsea, I don't know. But the school is there and the park across the street is there too. I stood on the spot where I had my first fistfight ever. I stood where I used to run away from bullies (and by bullies I mean everyone at the school besides me.) I looked at the yard where I used to play kickball - and where I almost got my face stomped into the dirt by the biggest kid in school.

The story is that while playing manhunter (one guy has the ball and everyone else tries to get it away from him - by any means necessary) I managed to miss the ball and ended up punching the biggest kid in the school in the face. It actually made a crack sound. Not good. Suddenly, the only thing moving was the ball bouncing away and I could see that I was basically fucked. Everyone saw it and everyone heard it. He was duty-bound to beat my ass. He didn't though. He just kind of shook his head and said "let's play" and that was the end of it.

Later, he saved my ass from a group of hispanic kids who lived nearby and who had taken an unfortunate interest in me. He actually stood up for me. His name was Ramon Rodruigez or something like that and I saw him years later working at a piercing place on 14th St. Funny, the things you remember sometimes.

The small streets around my house on Grove St and Hudson are largely still the same as they have always been. Chumley's still doesn't have a sign in front. Cherry Lane is still the same. St. Marks Garden is still there, if only a little overgrown. PS3 (my elementary school) is still there, and still reminds me of being lonely, falling in love for the first time, and being late. The Chinese dry cleaner is still there, even if he doesn't remember me coming in when I was just a little kid. Ottomanellis is still there. Murrays is still there. Zitos is still there, run apparantly by Mexicans. Go figure. The old chess store off Bleeker is still there, and it has two brothers keeping it company now. Joes pizza is still there.

Dojo West Side is still there, even if Eddies is gone. I had my first "Mission Burrito" at Eddies, years before I had any idea that there was a Mission Street in San Francisco or that burritos were a popular mainstay in California. It was a novelty back then. The Strand is identical - still no AC and still reeks of dusty tomed knowledge. The sidewalks still have dog shit on them, and when it rains it still smells like the mysterious elephant graveyard. The Italian restaurants are still manned by Chinese people and have Persian Gyro stands outside being worked by Latinos. I love it.

In Brooklyn two nights ago I went to a place I think was called "Super Burrito" - fully Mexican food, right? - and there was one of those Chinese ceramic cats on the counter. The place was owned and run by Chinese guys. The two tacos I had there were easily some of the best I've ever eaten. Oh, and no anal vesuvius afterwards. Go figure.

I've been watching the girls walk by while I'm writing, and if there is one thing I am really going to miss, it's the staggering volume of incredibly beautiful women here. They're all beautiful. I don't know how the city manages it. In September the city will get one more, and this paradise will be closed off to me indefinitely. What to do? Perhaps I'll move to Seattle or Houston and pretend I'm from New York or San Francisco, respectively.

I can't wait to get back to broadband.

Posted by Matt at August 4, 2003 09:43 AM