Hey, I'm in New York

There is something about New York - the smell, the energy, the apartment building with "Teeth Soup" spray painted across the first floor apartment window I'm walking by. Whenever I visit, I feel like a completely different person, and I love it.

My friend and I took a cab from Port Authority to the Lower East Side where our friend's box slash apartment is located. It's a 3-bedroom steal, fully equipped with a bathroom/living room/kitchen "area," and a masturbating hobo who lingers outside their apartment entrance quite frequently. Apparently, they have 911 on speed dial for such occasions.

We decide to hit up a small "hole-in-the-wall" brunch location right around the corner, which turns out to be about 15 blocks away. I guess when you live in New York, you don't use accurate systems of measurement. We finally arrive at The Essex Lounge, at least I think that was what it was called, and it seems the furthest from a hole in the wall. There is a 30 minute wait for a table, a line out the door, and the trendiest outfits you've ever seen on someone at 10:30 a.m. on a Saturday.

My friends and I decide to make our way to the bar, which looks like a mimosa breeding ground. A bartender lines up about 50 champagne glasses and fills them to the top with orange juice and champagne. And as fast as they're poured, they're gone. Who knew you could pay a flat rate of $17 for all you can drink mimosa’s, brioche French toast and potato pancakes! Good thing “teeth soup” wasn’t on the menu.

After some mid-morning libations and a delicious breakfast, my friends and I decide we have a good enough buzz going to do some shopping. Usually when shopping, I’ll drop benjamins like it’s my job. Instead, I came here with one shopping goal in mind, a first for me, and that was to buy a pair of cheap sunglasses.

We hit the famous Canal Street for some knock-off goodies. There are tables everywhere with cardboard signs that read “quality necklaces for quality people!” and “3 dollar sunglasses are cheaper then 5 dollar sunglasses, so buy mine!” It’s destiny.

I drop a 5 spot, put on my faux Ray Ban black shades (that give me that sort of Joaquin Pheonix post mental breakdown look), and we head back to the apartment to make plans for the night.

Making plans for a night in the big City can be more stressful then playing the stock market, especially when everyone wants to do a different thing. Someone yells out a dive bar, another yells out a club, so I jump in and exclaim “Meat Packing district!” I only know about this new and hip area from a few episodes of “Sex and the City” and the “Where the Stars Are” section from US Weekly.

After much deliberation, and convincing on my part, we decide on a bar in the MPD. I’m stoked. I have my camera. I’m ready to get my celeb on.

Did I see any celebrities? Did we wait in line forever at a heavily European-populated bar? Did shots cost a whopping 10 bucks a pop?

“Hey, I’m in New York Part 2” Coming Soon…