The secret of being IN ‘n’ OUT

After a fabulous mid morning in Malibu for brunch, a Packed to the Rafters TV celebrity spotting and a drive along the coast back to West Hollywood, my cousins Kevin & Donnie Norte (look them up, or “like” their Facebook page - they are famous over here) started to plan our evening activities. 

It was decided we were to go watch a flick at Graumanns Chinese Theatre, and post movie was to be burgers at IN ‘n’ OUT.  Now for those of you not familiar with IN ‘n’ OUT Burgers, you may have a clearer memory of an advertisement Paris Hilton did a few years back sliding all over a car eating a burger almost naked.  Right, with me now?

Anyhoo, while I was very excited about getting burgers after the movie Kevin mentions he has to tell me something.  What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was about to hear a little treasure that seems fit for a Grand Master to mention at a local Freemasons meeting…

There is a secret menu at IN ‘n’ OUT burger.

“A secret menu?” I say as I scratch my head confused.  

“Yes a secret menu” Donnie and Kevin respond in unison.  

“Why the hell is there a secret menu?” I wonder but before I could say “Two all beef patties…special sauce…”  Kevin whips out his iPad and launches the menu on the IN ‘n’ OUT page.

I am amazed. In front of me is a full range of burgers and styles that I have never heard of before.  From what I am being told as we scroll, not one of these are mentioned on the menu inside the restaurant and if you don’t know about this secret menu… no one inside the restaurant will tell you. Weird.

So we look at all the styles of burgers.  Donnie and Kevin tell me that they are quite partial to the cheeseburger “animal” style.  Animal style, what could that possibly mean?  Why do they have a secret menu again? 

As I start to feel concerned that this could be a joke or a waste of my time, Kevin breaks my mood by announcing that they make a burger sans bread.  Yes, without bread.  A burger made with lettuce instead of the bread.  Everything else you want is in it… the burger the tomato and the cheese.  I am impressed.  Allergy perfect.  Why haven’t we thought of this before?  Why haven’t I thought of this before? 

I stop to think about it.

For two long, very long years I have almost broken into tears when a Hungry Jacks advert came on the TV.  For I am gluten intolerant.  Forget the Singapore Airlines ads, my tears practically leap off my face when I see a flame grilled whopper with cheese.  So much so I would have to leave the room.  Bloody amazing I think to myself… while everyone else is trying to make do with that gluten free bread that you can practically use as bricks to build a house, these people are just making it with lettuce.  As my CEO always says… Keep it simple stupid, and yes trying to make do with gluten free bread is indeed stupid.  Lettuce however, brilliant. So we scribble the names down of our secret burgers and out the door we go.

The movie was great, Ben Affleck gorgeous of course - however our stomachs reminded us of more important things and off we trot to IN ‘n’ OUT Burger.

Right boys have we got the names of the secret burgers?  Animal Style check, what was mine called again? Oh yes “2 x 4” check.  We are off.

We arrive at the restaurant and just as I had been told, the menu had just 3 items on it. Double burger. Cheeseburger. Hamburger.

So in a scene that played out similar to the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld we wait in line until we are called.  Next Guest please!.  That would be us.

Kevin and I go straight up to the girl and Donnie is right behind.  “Two Animal style Cheeseburgers please and a 2 x 4” we say.  She repeats the order as if we had ordered straight from a menu.  WOW.  There is a secret menu.  She types it in to her burger consol and the boys order fries and drinks. 

As she is double confirming our order that I would like the “2 x 4” Cheeseburger which consists of two burger patties and 4 pieces of cheese… I start to think oh no, that’s not what I want and say…

“Oh no, I want the burger that is surrounded in lettuce”

She says to me “which one?”

And I repeat that I would like the one with the lettuce instead of bread.  She pretends she doesn’t know what I am talking about and looks bewildered that they would have a burger like that. 

Kevin and I look at each other in disbelief, Donnie takes two steps backwards as if we just lost our key to the secret garden and I quickly say “but hang on we looked it up on the internet.  You have it – I saw it on the web!”

The girl looks at us with her eyebrow up, leans forward and mutters under her breath…  “protein”.

“huh?” I say

She leans closer and whispers with her jaw tightly clenched… “it’s called the protein”.

I felt as if we had just been subjected to the cone of silence from Get Smart as she had whispered under her breath as if she was giving us the five lotto and the two supplementary numbers that night… unbelievable.

“Yes that’s the one I want” I say.

Phew! I had no idea that the secret menu is taken so seriously.I know the Masonic Hall on Hollywood Boulevard went broke but didn’t realize that perhaps they had set up shop here.

Kevin and I pull ourselves back off the counter and I am shocked to think we almost weren’t able to order any burgers at all.  That was a close call.  I was waiting for the “No Soup for YOU! Come back 1 year” cry that made that Seinfeld episode famous and we sigh in relief.

The girl reluctantly plugs in the details and continues to look at us sideways as if she was to silently say “you two were very lucky” and we quickly pay for two animal style burgers and a protein.   I turn around to see where Donnie had escaped to.  I am sure he was so embarrassed about my error he was sure to be long gone, but no, he was just looking for a place for us to sit.

Kevin finally brave enough to speak to me after our very close call says “Wow, we were almost OUT not IN just then”.

And it clicks to me that could be the reason for the name.

Order from the secret menu you are IN, ‘n’ if you don’t, you are OUT. Ha ha I think, that’s very clever.

But you know, just for the record, no matter what happens and how many close calls almost keep me OUT… I will always find a way to be IN.

Two Animals and The Protein in the middle!

The Secret Protein....

Baby I like it big…

As I sit in front of a building that looks like a cross between El Cabello Blanco crossed with COSTCO (I imagine the horses in ragalia about to trott past) it amazes me how everything here in the United States is BIG. 

Cars, food portions, malls, food portions, trucks, food portions… You name it, it’s big.

Just step into any place with a “Pharmacy” sign out the front.  I think the sign should read “Understatement” because walking in you get a whole lot more than a Pharmacy. 

Try… a liquor store, medical centre, food store, Starbucks, one hour photo, post office, internet café oh yeah don't forget the actual pharmacy.  All important items one could possibly need in an average day… booze, drugs, food, snap happy camera opportunities, coffee and an internet connection so you can upload continuous Facebook status’s.  One stop shop I would say. 

In Oshawa, a town of 150,000 people 70km East of Toronto (where my family live), around almost every single corner there was a huge shopping centre like this.  Not a Westfield kind of shopping centre, but more like a massive home decorator centre or IT village on steroids.  Think Radio Shack, Priceline, or your local Coles supermarket but times 100 and add another 10 or so businesses.  Just seriously massive stores.  It boggles my mind wondering how any of these centres survive in times like these.

It is very lucky that I am not living in the States...yet.  This type of centre should really be called “Spend your day here”.  With a big arched sign over a dual carriage way similar to the “Welcome to Disneyland” sign in Anaheim.  A trip to the supermarket for me is a 1.5 hour journey anyway – imagine the serious time and damage I can do in a place like this.  You wouldn’t see me for days.  

In 1997 when I was living in Canada my cousin Jen and I considered it a night out in going to “Shoppers Drug Mart”.  I used to love it.  It was a makeup, confectionery, and pharmacy paradise and an hour and half in there was though of as a short trip – and yet 16 years later these massive monuments still amaze me… cue mouth agape as if I was standing in front of the grand canyon reveling in its size and beauty. 

It makes me ask the question, do we really need everything in life to come in a supersize?  Is this the future?  Did McDonalds start this upsize craze… will Australia be next in this quest for bigness greatness?

As I look up through my windscreen pondering these thought provoking very serious life changing bigness greatness questions I am shocked to see a huge HUGE white blimp sailing across the sky advertising something as if a pretend competition for bigness was underway.

I squish my face practically to the windscreen to watch this thing sail past and think…

Yes a giant blimp may win first place in that competition today… and the competition for the biggest balls for that matter.

Did they not get the Hindenburg memo?

Atlanta Airport wow, you amaze me!

Arriving from Toronto a surprising short trip on a surprisingly small aircraft I make my way out of the 5 miles or so of Atlanta Hartfield –Jackson Airport (or is it Jackson-Hartfield?).  The airport has 5 concourses A,B,C,D,E and are so long you can take an underground train to the baggage claim area. 

I didn’t even work out there was a train, until after about 15 minutes of continuous walking in one direction I finally work out why the people keep are crowding at the beginning of each concourse.  I blame that delayed thought process on the small plane, because when I stood up, I hit my head so hard on the over head bins that the people behind me gasped.  Awesome... mild concussion.

Obviously all dazed and confused I hop on the train all the way to the baggage claim.  First time I have ever seen the baggage rotating on the turnstile when the people from the flight haven’t even got there yet.  Big airport.  Still not sure how I got here on that small plane. 

Off I trot to the shuttle bus area, because I am not in a rush, and I want to see this town!

Atlanta seems like Perth to me.  Very spacious and if you lived here, buy a car!  After an hour and a half on the shuttle, I am more than happy to be dropped off at the Intercontinental right across the road from our Servcorp location at Terminus 200.  WOW WOW WOW! 

Servcorp you amaze me too.  Great locations, fantastic team and a fit out on the floors to boot! PHotos are coming soon I promise!

36 hours in Atlanta before heading to Boston, and I am more than ready to jump back into work. 

You know what folks, I love my job.

Just a short stay in Atlanta and its over already...

You know Atlanta has the airport system down pat.  After my Toronto Pearson experience, I was up and early after my 1.5 day stay.  Arriving at the airport at 8.30am for an 11am flight, I was not about to re-live my 45 minutes stand in line time with Delta and panic about the time. 

My taxi dropped me right off in front of the Delta gates and to my absolute viewing pleasure I see a “curb-side” bag drop.  Big grin! I checked in online yesterday so I was very pleased to have been dropped off,  and not ticked off by 8.33am.  Check in complete! Oh my, hasn’t the day started off well!

Straight into the airport doors and I wiz by the Red Coats… They are actually helping people this time and there are no massive lines to check in inside either.  I must be in the Bizzaro Delta world (very “Jerry Seinfeld” if you are a fan) I am kind of impressed with Delta today. Maybe I should buy a lotto ticket too… my luck is up.

Off to Starbucks I head – yes I have grown quite accustomed to my grande vanilla soy latte each morning.  Don’t panic Mum, I’m losing weight not putting it on….

Interestingly I am not a Starbucks kind of person in Sydney.  I don’t think many people are.  No wonder when at the onset of the GFC, Starbucks closed 60 Australian stores.  Good move.  On the other hand, everyone here in the US loves it, so better to open new stores here I’d say. I mean, in New York, I couldn’t walk in to a store with out 20 people in the line.  And not one to stand in any kind of line I would immediately walk out again.  While I may be slightly addicted, life is too short to be standing in long lines. The Starbucks craze hasn’t quite caught on in Canada either.  Only saw a couple of stores.  In Canada, they still drink that awful perculated stuff from Tim Hortons!

So I cruise through the security point check in, the guy sending me through actually used to live in Maroubra so he gave me a fist high five.  Sweet, straight through to x-ray.  Off go the boots, the jacket, out comes the laptop and my 1 quart bag of tiny gels and liquids and the team are incredibly streamlined and fast.  One guy was having a great time with his tedious role by calling out all the things that we need to know in a song type rhyme.  Love people having fun with their job.  Great attitudes are contagious!

They have the body x-ray thing here and I am well rapt to be selected to get into it.  Have no idea why that was exciting for me, but its funny to stand there infront of everyone feet apart and your hands in the air like you are being held up!  After my hold up at Coco’s Restaurant with Drew in 2000, I am not sure why or how I can possibly have a sense of humour about being held up at gun point, but somehow I have…

So while I am hours early for my flight, sit in the general area (no Qantas lounge here folks) and being just a touch too early for a champagne , I sit and reflect on what a great couple weeks it has been...  Yep, I love my life right about now.

Welcome to DELTA, how can we not help you?

The day to leave my beloved Toronto behind came so quickly, that I feel like the past 5 days were the quickest of my life. There are quite a few little tales to be told from Canada and I'll write about those soon.  I know my cousin Jen is probably waiting for a bit of a plug!

But for now its time to leave and I’ll be back TO, I promise.  I love you!

So I am off and get started on the 401 – a direct Highway to Pearson airport. 120km all the way and just under an hour I was there.  Filled the hire car with gas, and into the terminal I go travelling light with all 5 bags.

Delta, Delta, Delta, looking, looking, looking, walking, walking, walking.. ah found it.. the only counter with a zillion school kids all decked out in uniform.  Awesome. But I am cool, I have 2 hours to check in.  I’ll be fine… until I look up…. DELTA, oh DELTA a DISASTER.

Toronto – NYC delayed until 4pm, and it was only 11am!  There goes the connecting flight to Atlanta at 3.

Alifiya was right.. “take the direct flight” she said.  No no, I’ll take the cheapest and connect in JFK I say – keep costs low.  I am such an idiot I think and almost ask the guy behind me to kick me hard in the pants.  I guess I now know what it feels like when people choose a cheap competitor over Servcorp.  Delays delays delays.  I feel like a 155MB file trying to download on a shared 1Mb link.  Ooh that was geeky talk, but lesson learnt, you get what you pay for.

So its 11.08am and I’m standing in the shortest line of 5 people.  11.30am still standing there.  11.50am I’m still standing there.  What are all these people training?  Have they never done this before?  I mumble something under my breath that I have never seen so many useless people in one confined area before.  Something has to be amiss…  are all these people fill in casuals or something?  I am absolutely certain I read that DELTA Airlines have people in Red Coats at every terminal just to help you out, “because they are committed to customer service” or something like that… more like the RED SHIRTS absolutely trying to block you completely entering any city, devoid of any service at all and as far as I know we are not even in Bangkok!

So it’s finally my turn and I get to the counter.  Oh she not happy Jan.  My lady is complaining to the next guy that she has to take her break now.  Oh no you don’t sweetie, I’ve been standing in line for 45 minutes, you WILL serve me.  But I smile my fake smile, and try to charm her with my accent.

“So the flight has been delayed” I say, “gee I should have taken the direct flight, how will I connect to Atlanta now?”.  Nothing back.  So I blink a couple of times and move a little closer.  Maybe she didn’t hear me.  I am thinking if she doesn’t look up soon, I might just launch into a tirade al la Steve Martin in Planes Trains and Automobiles at the car rental place lady.  But I wasn’t about to hear the end couple of words out of that scene and decide against it, because I HAVE to get to Atlanta.

“I’ve put you on the direct flight” are the best words and only words I hear back from the attendant.  “You are all set, you leave in an hour”.

Thanks love, row 13A, ooh!  Up the front I think, and I keep walking quickly before she changes her mind.

I fly through the gates to customs and welcome to the USA sign greets me.  There has to be 200 people waiting in line, and I haven’t even checked my bags in.  Flight leaves in 1 hour and if the customs part is anything like the check in part, I am in real trouble.

20 minutes in customs and a grilling from the border security, everything I have been up to in the past month just falling short of the colour of underwear I am wearing today. I finally check my bags in.

I still have to go through the x-ray yet.  Another 20 minutes, shoes & jacket off, laptop out,  and 200 people later I have under 10 minutes to get to the gate.  Now I understand why my family and friends choose to drive to Buffalo and fly out of there – now that we are 2 hours in this ordeal, Buffalo is absolutely quicker!

I sprint to the gate for my up the front seat and look out the window in bewilderment. I skidded to a halt.  Staring back at me is a fockker CJ700 jet.  Seats 70.  The ones that can only fly at 10,000 feet because any higher they are likely to crumple like an aluminum can.  The kind of jet when one has crashed into the ocean and you hear “all 70 people on board perished” and you wonder to yourself, who in their right mind is flying on a small plane like that.  Well right about now.  That would be me.

My 13A seat now feels like row 60 on a 747, and walking on board I am like gigantor and have to duck my head.  Lucky I didn’t wear the new 5 inch heeled ankle boots.  I would have had to crawl along the ground as if I was in a tunnel looking for something.  I find my seat 3^rd row from the back.  Lucky I have lost a bit of weight, because everything was in tiny proportions.  I look around.  There was no need to count the seats to the emergency exit like I usually do.  If I just lift my arm I can practically pull the emergency release on the door from here.  I am slightly terrified.  I wish I had a do-over as I didn’t fill in the emergency contact details for next-of-kin when booked the ticket. 

We taxi out to the runway to take off, and I look out the window for the guy with the remote control. Man this plane is small.  But with only an hour and 40 minutes before we land in Atlanta, I hope that DELTA can make good on the most important of all service requests and actually get me there.  I turn to the lady sitting beside me and ask…

“We are not going over an ocean are we?”

Oh, Canada…our home and native land…

Well not exactly my home and native land, but there is something about being in Canada that makes me feel like I have just arrived home.

Maybe because back in 1996-97 I lived here under the Australian working holiday programme and had one of the two defining times in my life so far. 

Though I believe that Toronto Pearson Airport may have a bone to pick wiith me.  I havent even been that bad, but I always seem to have problems here.

Back in 1996 when I arrived for 12 months, they almost didn’t let me in the country.  My Uncle Walter waited for over an hour before I came out of customs… and thought I had missed my plane.  When I tried to leave back in 2004, American Airlines couldn’t find my ticket reservation at the check in counter and could only find my Mum's.  And today, Toronto Pearson wasn’t about to let me down…

It was very unlike me to have a bathroom stop immediately after a teeny 1 hour flight from New York, but today was going to be different.  I had a feeling… no not that kind of feeling, that I should go straight to the baggage counter.. but no, I did a stop off against my gut feeling along the way.

Number 1’s this time was a BIG MISTAKE.

I waited and waited for one of the cubicles to be free, and I knew… I just knew I should hold it and wait… but I had to go to the car rental place straight from Customs and the 77kms to Oshawa would have pushed the boundary of being comfortable.

I hate public bathrooms… you won't find me pointing out the best public bathrooms in any city a.k.a George Costanza from Seinfeld – because if it’s public it’s a no-go Schilo zone.

So after breaking my own rule, I hot foot it over to the baggage claim.  I see that most of the baggage had been collected.  Mmm not good, but I see my Victoria Secret PINK bag coming round the bend.  I grab it.  I wait for my large shiny polycarbonate unmistakable suitcase to show, and as there are no bags left on the belt, I spot a smaller, similar but very different shiny bag coming my way. Mmmm that looks a lot smaller than mine for sure... oh... no....

Oh yes, you go it, someone took my luggage… awesome. So I grabbed the wrong case and took it off the belt.

Now, I purposefully took one of the earliest flights out of New York just incase I had a delay – because I have a vey special birthday to get to in the evening that I can not miss.  Lucky it's only 9am, I have plenty of time.  This actually puts me in a tolerable patient mood instead of an impatient, intolerable one that comes with time pressure.

Off I go to the service desk right by the baggage claim and made my own claim about someone taking my luggage. Judging by the weight and size of the bag left behind, the person who took it must have had a dog and/or long white cane in hand… because my bag was twice as big and twice as heavy.  I did have a chuckle to myself, because all I had in that case was makeup, my 5 inch heel boots and t-shirts.  No pants. The thought of someone all dolled up, heels, white cane with no pants on certainly would have been humerous.

So the guy at the service counter tells me that someone has collected my bag and it’s now on the belt to be loaded to Ottawa.  Oh awesome.  Perfect.  Ottawa.  That’s a 5 hour drive away.  I tell the guy that my bag is only tagged to Toronto, and he said that he was sorry but the bag was in the system and it can take 7-8 hours for bags to fall out the other side.  well I can tell you, that I’m about to fall out the other side.  But! I decide to smile because the up side was that I could go shopping for more clothes, make up and heels.  Yes that’s a big upside… Yorkdale here I come!

So I fill out all my details and its now 9.30am, have called everyone I can to tell them of my plight and off I head to the car rental place.  I have every intention of stopping off at Yorkdale Shopping Centre, but before I could say “Charge it to my credit card” I receive a call form my cousin Jen that the baggage claim people had called to say they had found my bag.  DAMN IT.   Just when I was getting excited.

They had to call Jen of course, because they needed a local number for my claim form.  Strange isn’t it, that they would not accept an American number… “No No must be a local number” Gees people, because it makes total sense that everyone walking off a plane in Toronto already has a local telephone number with them.  NOT!

Oh Canada, I am still smiling as I load my other bags into the trunk of the car and head back into Terminal 3. 

At the airport, it’s so easy to walk out of customs, however I dare you to try walk back through the wrong way and see how you go.  Essentially what happens is that the minute you cross over that point you are either in or out of the country.  Right now I was in Canada… but my suitcase was in the US.  So you guessed it, I had to go back through customs escorted by two men and collect my displaced bag, was stamped out of Canada, stamped back into the US, and back into Canada again. 

Sounds just like me in fine form coming, going back and forth to Canada over the past 13 years… but will I stay this time or will I go?

and a seminar along the way...

Today is a day I have been waiting for months.  It’s Jeffrey Gitomer day!

Everyone at work, colleagues, and even trainees who only see me for 2 hours out of a training week hear me spread the word on Gitomer.  If you don’t know him and you sell anything… you need to immediately click here to view his website (http://www.gitomer.com/).  I’ll even risk you tearing yourself away from my blog to read about him.  Ha ha.

Yes everyone thinks that I am obsessed, but I just connect with his passion.  His no BS language reaches right out of the page and grabs you by the balls (well... you know what I mean). His sales language is honest, truthful and makes you take responsibility for your goals, opportunities and actions. His books even pick me up from the floor on a day when things don’t go my way.  And I hate it when things don’t go my way! 

So the day was filled with Jeffrey’s New York seminar on YES Attitude, which has inspired me even more (if that is actually possible!).  I know I know, I can hear people moan from here - because I already have enough beans. Sorry folks I have even more now and an autographed book to boot!

So if you haven’t already signed up for Jeffrey’s weekly e-zine “Sales Caffine” visit the website above or buy a book at http://www.buygitomer.com/ and snap to it.  You won’t regret it. 

It’s not like any other sales anything you have read before! 

It’s sharp, witty and oh did I mention it’s free?

The man himself, Jeffrey Gitomer... oh and me...

Ed, David... Sullivans and Lettermans...

The Mayfair Hotel is in the heart of the Theatre district, right on the corner of West 49^th and Broadway.  You name it all the big guns are playing… Chicago, Mamma Mia and Wicked headline the area in bright lights.  I’ve seen Wicked twice in Sydney and couldn’t bring myself to watch the New York version.  Yes Yes I know this is where it all started back in 2003 but I just don’t think I could have brought myself to watch anyone else play Fiyero other than Rob Mills.  I am also extremely partial to Lucy Durack playing Galinda (Glinda) too. I loved it so much.

I have watched the clips of the New York show on You Tube and bought the Wicked CD, and I still believe the Australian cast tops it in every way, so sorry New York, I take a pass on going to see it.

Instead I pass by The Ed Sullivan Theatre where the David Letterman show has been taped since 1993. Some of the most incredible people in the world have stood on the stage here.  Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Bob Dylan you name it they have been here and I was about to see if I could get in on it.

So I cruise by the front of the theatre and to my surprise there was no line out the front.  Mmm…intrigued.  I go in.

I rock on in and fill out a form, and it seems he is only filming tonight and tomorrow night – and tonight was the only night I could go.  A couple more people come in and I finished my form and stand behind them in line for my interview.  YES interview.  I felt like I was in line for a TVC casting.

NEXT!

So I have a little chit chat to a very young guy who proceeds to ask me a string of questions about the show to see if I really was a fan.  Lucky I have a rollerdex of show content in my brain from over the years and a recently viewed link from You Tube when Ellen was on.  I pretty much go to bed at 9.30pm so 11.30pm is a stretch.

So I pass the test and the young guy tells me I should hear if I’m successful by 1pm.  It’s 12pm so I figure that’s great.

1.04pm and I am called with the news that I need to be at the Ed Sullivan Theatre between 2-3pm.  3.01pm is too late the guy says, and says that I am on John’s Gold list.  Not sure who John is, but his gold list sounds awesome.

I rock up at 2.30pm, and after a ton of lining up and waiting at exactly 4.30pm I am sitting second row in spitting distance from Letterman himself.  Good on you John and your Gold list, I am impressed.  

Letterman is looking older in person than he does on TV, but what a professional and I am loving it.  Hilary Swank and 2 other guys were the featured guests.  I was secretly hoping for George Clooney or some other hot male over 40.  But no, wasn’t my day today.  I have to say however that Hilary Swank is absolutely beautiful, funny and tiny.  Mental note, must go to gym when I get home… but I am too excited to be depressed about weight right now.

An hour later and its all over and definitely an experience to write a letter home about. 

Thanks David Letterman, New York and Ed Sullivan Theatre.  An A plus from me!

Theatre District New York City

What… no Champagne?

First night in New York city and I was pumped for a night out on the town.  My feet on the other hand were not so pumped as I high heeled it over a couple of blocks to Hell’s Kitchen to meet my family.  Now I haven’t seen my family here in New York for 20 years.  The last time I saw them I was 9.  So I am 29 now, that makes it now just over 20 years.  Ok, ok well the last time I saw them was 1983, but what’s a few missing years and my real age got to do with it?

I am so happy to see my cousins. Well actually I believe it is meant to officially be first cousins once removed or something like that, but second cousins sounds better for family tree sake.

I cried when I saw Luis, for he had been my favourite when I was 9 years old.  I think he expected a loud mouthed 9 year old to come around the corner.  Little did he know at first glance that I am still a loud mouth if that’s any consolation!  It was so awesome to have dinner with Rose, Lydia and Lisa who was born years after I had last been.  Truly special.  Family is so special, and I will blog about family and elaborate later.  A few short lines just doesn’t seem to do it all justice right now.

So dinner and a trip down memory lane flew by and I was off to meet Alifiya in Soho. I was excited and stopped in to put on my 5 inch heel ankle boots for an over the top experience.  My feet were killing me, but as I have said before, I dress for style not comfort.  I push on.

My cousin Lisa said we should try a range of bars down in the Avenue A and B area and we head straight there.  Lif and I are ready to get our drink on, and as we both have aching feet, we think the sooner the better.

After getting through the door, an ID check and all… (God bless you New York), a champagne and a vodka are on the order.  Until they have no champagne.  No champagne? Where am I Kalgoorlie? Oh no they probably have champagne.  This is ludicrous!

Out the door we go, hobbling down the street like we have bound feet from 16 century China.

Second bar, ID check (God Bless you New York), and we hit the bar again… No champagne. Right we must be lost.  This can’t be New York, and I start to cry out in pain.  No not the feet – I am in pain because of the champagne. 

Lif said she had to sit down, not sure how the Chinese did it back then with bound feet and all, so I agree and we sit.  Our night out hasn’t started so well as I am not sure who is more upset, Alifiya with me because I only drink champagne or me with the bars that they don’t stock it.  Seems incredibly strange and I start to break out in a sweat.

Out the door we go again and straight into a cab.  This cycle repeats itself 2 or 3 times, before we decide we will go to Mulberry.  If only we could find it.

We bump into some Australian guys at the front of an Australian bar.  I absolutely refuse to go in.  I think because of my insistence that we would not go into an Australian Bar in New York they so kindly send us on a bum steer to another bar on the next street… that wasn’t open.

Right, well me and my loud mouth will take the blame for that one.

Finally Caryn calls and gives us directions to an incredible little bar called Tartinery thankfully just around the corner.  We bolt for the bar stools in this quaint little place and I start to feel like I am in New York. 

 

At that moment, there could not have been a better wine list and I yell Pommery please! and our night finally begins…



Luis monkey-ing around New York 1983

Taking a bite out of the big apple…

Bright, shiny and crunchy right to the core… that’s New York City for you and stepping off the plane a week ago I thought perhaps I had bitten off more than I could chew.

Keep in mind that I am just a little girl from Perth.  Or is that meant to be just a girl from little old Perth?  Well you can make up your mind.  Sydney is big for me, so initially New York was overwhelming.  The number of people crossing the street alone is confronting.

The cabby from the airport took a delightful detour to my hotel and even as a beginner in New York when you pass Times Square twice… you know something isn’t right. Its only one of the most crowded places on earth with flashing signs everywhere… yeh like I am not going to notice we just did a massive circle.  He mumbled something about a parade going on or something… likely story!  

Should have taken the shuttle, but I was in dire straits for time as my brand new “never will buy from Midas again” $400 boots arch had snapped in half and needed new ones pronto. I am devestated those boots died so early.  It wasn’t like I was storm trooping in Belgium on cobblestones or anything! If I wasn’t only week 1 out of 5 for my travel plans I would have lugged them home and thrown them at the sales girl in a tantrum, but the thought of shopping in New York for new ones had eased both my mind and temper for now. 

I arrive at the Mayfair Hotel on West 49^th .  Now don’t get excited about the name.  In fact I want you to think of everything you have ever attributed to the name Mayfair, and divide by 300.  If you have ever been to New York on a $200-300 or Paris on a 250Euro a night budget, you will know exactly what I am talking about. Smaller than small room. I couldn’t even open my suitcase without it hitting the other side of the room!  I had to walk in sideways and I almost cried.  But hey I am in New York, and it could be a lot worse. My mind strayed and thought of my friend Kristie in the half way heroin hut she had to stay in New York, and I immediately felt better.  If all else fails I can jump over the suitcase every morning, hit the wall and bounce off the bed straight into the bathroom (which was awesome I must say).  And how much time do I want to stay in my room anyway…

I am in New York!

So out the door I go and trott down through Times Square. BIG MISTAKE.  I have a very bad habit of walking very fast and Times Square is not a place for people moving quickly.  I have never seen so many people in one place.  All walking slowly, 5 people abreast with their heads looking up!  I had a bit of a chuckle to myself as I thought of my best friend Meghann and how she would have a meltdown if she were here.  She has no patience at all for people walking 3,4 or 5 abreast.  In fact it aggravates me now (thanks Meg!) because it never really occurred to me previously that people hog the sidewalk – I am from Perth.  There is plenty of room to walk, because I realize now there are no people walking anywhere! 

As I was in a hurry (it was 4pm and dinner was at 7pm in Hell’s Kitchen) I started to act like a local and barged through like the Death Star in Star Wars (cue Darth Vadar’s soundtrack).  Back to starting with the A’s I am frantically looking for ALDO.  I thought I saw it here somewhere.  49th, 48th, 43rd I’m no closer to finding anything remotely like boots.   

 

Finally 15 blocks later, 6pm and I am in shopping heaven, and find exactly what I am looking for.  Ankle boots. Well I figure it’s summer in Sydney when I get back… so I compromised.

Oh gosh is that the time? I need to be back to the hotel, change and fly out the door to be 2 blocks away for dinner with the family in just under an hour.  With my feet killing me, but as an owner of new boots I've had a pretty awesome start to my New York experience.  

That was until I had to look for Champagne…

Move over shoes and shopping... here comes Champagne!

So lets digress from shoes and shopping for just a few moments to pay homage to my third love… Champagne.  Anyone who knows me knows how much I love champagne.  Even the likes of VISA, AMEX and Mastercard know I love it, and they call me monthly to let me know they know… haha just kidding, well...sort of.

As fate so kindly has it, one of the best Champagne bars is right across the road from The Embassy Suites.  Perfectly named “Pops”... its only right that I popped on right over.

My “Pop” (otherwise known as Dad) would not be so pleased I was about to acquaint myself with Pops.  Recently after a pricey dinner at Café Sydney he pulled me aside and said “I have never spent $151 on a bottle of champagne in my life!!”.  I said well blame my friend Turbo for that.  A case of Veuve for Christmas one year and I was hooked.  Doesn’t look like that finance plan is going to work out just yet.  Sorry Pop, but if it’s worth relocating to start it, then I am pleased to say the liquor stores here retail Veuve US$39.  As Australia retails from $65 onwards I think yes... must find a residency application.

So I popped into Pops and it is crowded.  Not the kind of crowded where you wish you hadn’t left the house, but "every seat taken" kind of crowded.  Business it seems for the champagne crowd is booming.  I’m in.

The Champagne list is sensational, and ten minutes of mouth watering choices I opt for a half bottle.  One glass is just too fleeting and absolutely not enough time to write out this blog!

Half bottle ordered, Duck confit and Frites are on the way.  I couldn’t be happier!  Well, I guess I could…. If only I had have gone for the Frois Gras. However as it comes on a brioche base (and I’m gluten intolerant) I’m not quite sure this is quite the place to eat it with my finger.

Great atmosphere, I feel really great.  Chicago is great and I try to forget that I am sitting here like a Nigel no mates at the bar.

The couple next to me are really nice – Celebrating their 10^th Wedding Anniversary. Very cute.  They just live around the corner and seem to have a lot to talk about.  They include me in most of their conversation.  I didn’t ask if they have kids, though as they went for the same half bottle of “Gaston Chiquet Brut” as I did, I am guessing that they do.

Just got the Frites.. and they are GARLIC FRITES! I am appalled though the girls next to me seem excited.  I pass them along and practically beg them to eat all of them.

Not that I’ll be meeting anyone tonight.  Two girls to my left and a married couple on my right, chances remain very slim. I do know someone however who recently met a guy walking across the street.  Yes. SERIOUSLY.  While walking across a street!   You know as a note, that upsets people like me.  But very excited for her...  I believe he is talking rings. Big rings.  Mental note...Must start paying more attention.  Must start to look up!

So the frites are gone and the bar guy (Michael) is impressed.  “Beautiful and Generous” he says… Funny line....  I look up! 

So Michael proceeded to look after me so well, two glasses of Bollinger followed, as did the richest slice of mud cake tasting almost flourless… it was worth the swelling and I was in heaven!

Two hours later and I was having the time of my life with new best friends Michael, the girls and the wedding couple.

Thanks Pops!

I am a Nigel no mates no more!

Chicago Shopping l October 2, part 2

Feeling like Rachel Zoe, straight into GUESS I trot, and immediately head for the shoes on display. 

Now while some may benchmark a Big Mac from McDonalds or a can of Coke country to country.  My benchmark is a pair of GUESS heels. In Australia expect to pay anywhere between AUD199, Singapore SG$130 in Europe EUR199 (I think they forgot to convert correctly… and yes I did have a coronary) and with much love I stare at a pair of heels in the heart of Chicago for just US$99.  True love again, and Dad I think we have a problem.  Life long finance structure is going to have to wait until at least until the New Year.

Once again my smile is Cheshire cat bound from ear to ear as I walk around realizing everything is practically half the price than in Australia.  Cool watches from $100, and faux fur vest at just $148. My mental mind scroll works overtime, as I reconciliate the whole store and head straight over to the GAP. 

August 26^th 2010 saw the new GAP store open at Chadstone Shopping Centre in Melbourne.  I trust one is heading to Sydney soon.  In the meantime there is no risk in have a quick skim through.  GAP advertising has always been great.  I remember the Sarah Jessica Parker ad a few years back, where it was a booklet cut in half so you could dress her from a range of styles.  Very Barbie cut out book like.  Their recent advertisements focus on Black Pants; boy cut, curvy, boot cut, ¾ length etc… .just my colour! and I head straight over. 

The sizing can get you if you are not used to the American size charts… and by the way who really is a size 0.  After asking the shop assistant what my size will be converted to, I worked out that I could starve myself for the rest of my life and never be a 0,2 or even a 4!  The price tag of the basic blacks impressed me at $59.50 when in Australia they will retail for $99.   I’m not sure how we get away with that.  No wonder everyone I talk to about Australia says “oooooh it’s so expensive there”.  I definitely now agree and to be honest feel a little bit ripped off myself!

Four levels of GAP goodness is ahead and I navigate each one with ease.  I make a mental note to ensure I tell my sister to get online so that we can coordinate the kids winter collection and sizing. It’s all just too good and the basics are terrific.

But the best was yet to come.  In a form of a secret.  VICTORIA’s SECRET.

What an experience.  Did you know that unlike any other lingerie shop – you don’t actually need to pull the merchandise off the racks like you are styling a 10 section fashion show?  All you need to do if you know your size is hop back to the Bra Salon, and they will bring you EVERY model of bra they have so you can try on in the most luxurious change rooms… oops I mean bra salon.

And the best part is they never come barging in, flying the door open for all to see with a “Are you done yet?”.  Hey my days of changing into a wedding dress backstage at a fashion parade within 30 seconds are well and truly over… so I am delighted that they took my name, wrote it on a card, tucked it in a holder next to my door and left me to it.  When I was ready I simply pushed the door bell on the inside of my door and waited for them to pop in.

My lady Lucy took special care of me, since as my girlfriends know, at the tender age of 29 (!) I have not had the pleasure of wearing many of these catapult contraptions.  Personally I don’t find the need… but I could tell she was a little shocked as her eyebrows bobbed up and down Groucho Marx style and politely contained the “What The?”

Two hours later I was so ecstatic that I almost cried!  Sorry Dad but I also bought a tracksuit, a tank top, a Bears t-shirt (very cute), lip gloss, eye shadow, and some eyeliner.  Well it WAS a large store and what do you expect. I’m actually convinced it’s all a devine trap.   Like Casinos… flashing lights, sparkly thing and no clocks anywhere… I'm not a gambler but I am not complaining!

Blame the ballroom dancing past on the addiction to sparkly things… because I chassee over the road straight into the doors of Swarovski.  Now thats an entrance! So if the 50% off prices haven't done my head in yet, my Mum is going to hemorrhage when I tell her about this. The prices are just too incredible, and again at 50% off.  My Mum definitely understands a good buy when she sees one.  I'll be sure to tell the therapist at somepoint in my life I know who I took after!  My mind races on however with stories to explain to Dad why I needed a new ring, or that I need to buy something for my sister or for Mum… to save money “for all of us to share” of course...

Just for the record, that old chestnut has been working on my Dad since the mid 80’s when my Mum came home with a $400 Lisa Ho designer jacket “for all of us to share”.  My Dad is a very smart man, and I know he never falls for this kind of garb.  He just loves us all so much that he would never tell us no.

That said Lisa Ho jacket was so expensive back then, no one to this day has the heart to get rid of it - more than 20 years later.  Sorry Mum, but my guess is that a multi-coloured puzzle jacket with enormous shoulder pads and gold buttons will never make a come back, no matter what we paid for it. 

No wonder Joseph and his Techicolour Dream Coat hasn’t played in London’s West End for a while. 

He can’t find his jacket, but just between you and me I think I have an idea where he may find it!