I flew into Newark International airport around noon. The flight was much cheaper than a flight into JFK or LaGuardia. My first view of New Jersey confirmed all of the punch lines I’d heard over the years. I saw a great deal of chemical processing plants and those large tanks that hold caustic liquids of various kinds.
Just perfect for dropping a body into.
I asked a lady behind a counter the best way to get into Manhattan and she recommended Greyline Bus service. I paid $14.00 (as opposed to the $50.00 cab fare) and rode the 12 miles into town. One of their stops looked reasonably close to my hotel, only several blocks away. On the map it didn’t look too far.
That was my biggest mistake of the trip.
They dropped me off at Grand Central Station. I then had to carry my enormous luggage case countless blocks to the Sheraton Manhattan Hotel. There were two problems with this:
1) I do have rollers on my luggage, but the handle was broken on my last trip, a fact I had forgotten.
2) My suitcase was weighted down with file folders, resumes, as well as several days worth of clothes. It weighed 47 pounds.
I am a beast of a man, but carrying that weight got old quickly. It took me a good hour to make it to the hotel in 25 degree weather. I sweated the whole way. When I finally arrived at the Hilton, I brought the suitcase in and collapsed while they looked up my reservation.
“Ummm, Mr. Taran? We don’t seem to have your reservation.”
What?! I took out my itinerary and noticed…….my reservation was for the Sheraton, one more block down 53rd street.
A bellboy (or whatever they call them now) saw my plight and offered to carry my suitcase a block down to the Sheraton. He was fussed at by his supervisor because he would be wearing his Hilton uniform to the Sheraton lobby.
But he carried it down for me anyway and was incredibly gracious. It was then I learned a shocking lesson that was repeated for me on numerous occasions during my several day stay.
Manhattanites are NICE!
Just perfect for dropping a body into.
I asked a lady behind a counter the best way to get into Manhattan and she recommended Greyline Bus service. I paid $14.00 (as opposed to the $50.00 cab fare) and rode the 12 miles into town. One of their stops looked reasonably close to my hotel, only several blocks away. On the map it didn’t look too far.
That was my biggest mistake of the trip.
They dropped me off at Grand Central Station. I then had to carry my enormous luggage case countless blocks to the Sheraton Manhattan Hotel. There were two problems with this:
1) I do have rollers on my luggage, but the handle was broken on my last trip, a fact I had forgotten.
2) My suitcase was weighted down with file folders, resumes, as well as several days worth of clothes. It weighed 47 pounds.
I am a beast of a man, but carrying that weight got old quickly. It took me a good hour to make it to the hotel in 25 degree weather. I sweated the whole way. When I finally arrived at the Hilton, I brought the suitcase in and collapsed while they looked up my reservation.
“Ummm, Mr. Taran? We don’t seem to have your reservation.”
What?! I took out my itinerary and noticed…….my reservation was for the Sheraton, one more block down 53rd street.
A bellboy (or whatever they call them now) saw my plight and offered to carry my suitcase a block down to the Sheraton. He was fussed at by his supervisor because he would be wearing his Hilton uniform to the Sheraton lobby.
But he carried it down for me anyway and was incredibly gracious. It was then I learned a shocking lesson that was repeated for me on numerous occasions during my several day stay.
Manhattanites are NICE!
2 comments:
I would love to go there someday.
My first experience with New York was while in college (1980). My dad had just moved to Manhatten and was visiting for a couple of weeks during a school break.
I got off the plane in Newark dressed as I always did "back home" in rural Oklahoma or the big city of Stillwater: faded wranglers, boots, and a Stetson.
Keep in mind that in 1980 John Travolta in Urban Cowboy was a big hit.
"Wow", I thought, "are these people back east friendly". Then it dawned on me... I was getting hit on by every gay in New Jersey.
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