The following is a thread of tiny stories from each day of my September 2024 tour of the Eastern Seaboard.
READ PART ONE
9/23/2024
Arriving at Central Station always takes my breath away. I slide into the crush of traffic, leaving the train and heading toward the main concourse. I love the feeling of exiting a train & navigating those hallways of public transport here. I once lived here. It took me so long to get the hang of it. I walk fast, darting between people while avoiding eye contact. I’ve secured what may be the only legal AirBnB in Bushwick. I’m meeting my gay bestie on the Upper West Side in a few hours. I picked the neighborhood; he chose the restaurant. I wanted a neighborhood with no complicated memories. My place is gorgeous, and I think I will stay forever, despite the grey sky outside and the street that smells of wet cardboard.
I take so many trains to meet my friend. The restaurant is beautiful, though it’s name I can’t remember. I have a glass of Sancerre & a New York Strip. I usually order Filet Mignon if I want steak, but having a New York Strip on my first night back reminds me of a scene from Sex and the City.
From there, we go to the Dead Poet. It’s so narrow you have to sidestep to the bathroom. I have another drink and a half, and we continue yapping. We’ve never met in person, but the friendships I make online are authentic. It’s the same for my friend. It’s effortless to be together. We walk south a while after the bar, then I hop his Uber to Penn Station. From there I walk all the way to the L. I zone out and miss my stop. The first thing I see off the train sparks bad memories. This is why I met my friend on the UWS. I love so much that I have learned to watch out for myself this way.
9/24/2024
I wake up feeling sick, although I only had 2.5 drinks. It must be some kind of mid-trip burnout. Raleigh is bus. I cancel my day. Next time I tour I will build in a mid-trip burnout day so it doesn’t take me by storm. I order matzo ball soup and gatorade and rewatch Emily in Paris in my beautiful AirBnB. My (straight) best guy friend comes over in the afternoon. The apartment has a backyard, so I can slip out and smoke the weed a friend gave me in CT. I head to the airport with no regerts.
9/25/2024
I haven’t been to North Carolina since I was 22, over a decade ago. That’s the last time I saw this exact shade of green. It’s more electric than the green of trees and grass in other places. If you haven’t been there you might not believe me; I don’t care. Anyone who has ever been to North Carolina can attest; the green is practically psychedelic. I’m fully booked, and I still have weed left. I’ve been craving Bojangles chicken since I left. The errands I need to run are simple; lube, deposit cash in bank, get chicken, but it takes all day. Scrolling Doordash later I notice that it’s near impossible to order vegetables that don’t involve breading, cream, cheese, oil, or some combination, so I have broccoli casserole with the pulled pork I order for dinner. It’s fantastic.
9/26/2024
I almost go to a museum but I don’t have the energy. Instead I watch the weather channel; Helene is rolling toward us. My flight to Charlotte is canceled that evening, and I am put on a later flight out. I watch the changes pop up as notifications, then look up at the bigger screen. There’s a man on camera in ankle deep water. I look at the storm tracker. I decide not to trust an airline who makes you pay for WiFi over data. I call the airline and ask to be rerouted through Philadephia before flying home. There’s an early flight that makes sense. I get the last seat on the plane.
9/27/2024
When I get to the airport I see that every flight to Charlotte has been canceled. By nine am I am eating cheeseburger eggrolls and drinking a very large beer in Philly. Then it’s home to my bed, my animals, and the rest of Emily in Paris.
*I do not know when I will tour the east coast next, or exactly what cities I will visit, but I am available for Fly Me To You dates anywhere in the US.
