"YOU are taking the bus to New York???" The looks from my friends were telling: Aghast. Agape. Appalled. Alarmed. And that's just the "A"'s. But at only $50 round trip, I accepted their loathing. I guess the trick is don't tell anyone.
But for heaven's sake, it's not as though it was Greyhound! It looks like a bus, acts like a bus, smells like a bus, but it was the classier Vamoose with departures from Rosslyn and Bethesda. I mean, the train costs five times that. Flying does too, plus you practically undress to go through security. And, besides, who doesn't want to save money these days?
So off I went (by cab, of course) to the depot, in culture shock amidst a full house of twentyand- thirty- somethings with bad haircuts. Hoping to fit in, I assessed how they lounged around waiting to board, looking zoned out from lack of sleep, every one on a 'yell' phone bellowing out their life’s stories, weighed down with backpacks, text books and pizza slices. No, not possible, not with my Fendi overnight bag, WSJ, and treats from Dean & DeLuca. I decided best to just be myself. To those who say "50's are the new 30's", I say "Get real!"
New York has its charms but the weather isn't among them; five hours later, the heat and humidity of New York streets scored 120 degrees. But this was The Big Apple, not Washington, so I should have expected one-upmanship.
I was headed to the annual Fancy Food Show to take in (literally) 2,000 specialty foods. Chocolate, olives, paté, cookies, crackers, cheeses, pastas, thirty kinds of olive oil, mustard, cheese sticks...well, you get the picture. "Balducci's on steroids." I tasted all of them and staggered out, thankful for my stretch waistband surrounding my newly stretched waist. Isn't technology wonderful?
In a further clash of environments, I stumbled upon Canal Street, where the odiferous environment spews forth splendid knock-offs of designer handbags, sunglasses, and watches. On every street corner, I was accosted by "Psst!" in various accents. "Wanna Louis Vuitton? Chanel? Follow."
So, never being one to turn down a potential new peril, I obediently
trailed one to a dark van on a side street. Motioned to climb
aboard, I was thinking this thing is going to take off and I'll end
up across some border,
but was actually enveloped by floor to ceiling fake designer bags. I was indeed a captive audience,dying to buy something without actually dying. Squirming and trying to figure out how to say No politely and safely, I finally called upon my best Schwarzenegger impression and swaggered out with "I'll be back."
A short time later, I did score a great replica Cartier watch for $30, thinking perhaps I would be redeemed by my friends after all. Not so. "You didn't buy one for me? I may not ride a bus but I'd certainly wear a good fake!"
The rags to riches adventure continued with an indigestible $2.00 street hot dog for lunch (their version of fancy food). Talk about dying of gustatory failure. But then, it's better than gagging on granola and overdosing on health food supplements like Californians. This was blissfully followed by drinks at the famous Sardi's, courtesy of a good friend who reminded me that I do have some standards and insisted I live up to them for at least one evening.
My accommodations outdid any $800/night hotel, including better coffee and no need to tip. At a friend's condo on the water at the Jersey City Marina, I could
practically reach out and caress the magnificent yachts. Who knew such calm and beauty is just fifteen minutes from Manhattan...Nirvana meets Gotham. To top it all off, a water taxi transported me back and forth, playing the two skylines against one another.
The return trip was a mere 4 hours with wafts of perfume emanating from my seat mate and broken air conditioning. I asked a young person to switch seats as I have allergies to scents, but he ungraciously declined. When I finally got home and went out on the balcony to breathe fresh air, I locked myself out. I calculated (on my new fake watch) how long one could last out there, what with geranium leaves for a late snack and a dainty chair and figured until the first imminent thunderstorm. While I sure appreciated my wide open views that are sadly missing in downtown NY, it felt kind of lonely after dodging the teeming masses all weekend. Finally, help arrived a few hours later. A word of advice: don't try this at home.
So if you too are asking "What's wrong with saving money in this recession?", swallow your pride, shlep to the bus depot, and get your caboose on the Vamoose. But hurry! The price goes up to $60 in August! And with all your newly found savings, there'll be enough left over to afford Balducci's!
