I’m not exactly ashamed to say this: Josh’s wasn’t the first place on my list of where I wanted to go on my first vacation in, oh, like forever. Unfortunately he was kind of towards the bottom of the list. And as much as it pains me to say this I only called him after others had pulled out on me. Why would this be? I mean, he’s probably my best friend and the only person I don’t see every day that I actually talk to on a weekly basis. Well, the reason was that my last trip down there wasn’t all that pleasant.

First of all, his basement where he lives was freezing. It was March of this year. We had actually hit a bit of a warm patch in the weather. The subzero temperatures of the weeks before had lifted and the temperature actually rose to unusually warm 50’s. The basement, however, was still playing catch up. I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold indoors before. Just to add insult to injury, when I took my shower the next morning it was warm just long enough to get myself all wet before the furnace kicked on and stole all heat from the water. For some reason the shower blows cold air at you and a seemingly highly pressured mist that feels like millions of tiny daggers eating away at your skin. Oh, and I also had a headache from the fact that I ate almost nothing the entire weekend (but that’s a whole other post entirely.)

Josh, if you are reading this (which you may actually be after our conversation the other day), realize that none of this is a reflection on you, nor did it ruin this weekend from actually being really fun.

Much to my relief the basement was normal basement temperature. No shivers for me, no sir. We also ate well, and frequently.

Saturday night we decided to go see a movie after eating. After hitting a Chinese/Mexican place (is this common?) Josh gave me the option of seeing a movie in a mall in White Plains or at the Burns Center in Pleasantville. Since the movie didn’t matter as much as seeing it I asked which theater had the better/classier architecture. Burns Center it was.

We had a little trouble finding the place, as one of the roads Josh would have used was flooded out, but after a slight detour we made it OK. While walking from the parking lot to the theater we passed a group of high school girls sitting on benches. Oh the words that came out of their mouths.

“Oh boys! Whatchu doing, boys? Hey, you want to come to a party…in my PANTS?”

I kid you not, I was invited to a pants party.

No luck at the theater. Everything was already sold out. There was already a MASS of upper middle class white people there. So we decided to try another theater. Of course that meant walking by the girls/whores again.

“Hey, the boys are back. Why are you coming back, boys? I like the one with the glasses.”

So take that Joshua. I’m hotter. Nah-nah-nah-nah-Nah-nah.

Off to another theater, the one we went to last time I was there. Same luck as the Burns center though, all sold out. Then back to the mall in White Plains (not 3 blocks from where we ate, but of course without any exciting pants parties to go to). We hit the parking garage. 6 levels of parking, and not a single spot open. We went up and then down. Down and then up. Up. Down. Down some more. Up. Down. Up again. Up. No more up, got to go down. And so on.

Ross called Josh while we were looking. 17 minute phone call, and we didn’t get out of the car once. We were there at least 20 minutes, if not longer before I convinced Josh to steal a spot that suddenly became available from someone who we think was waiting for that spot. Hey, it’s dog eat dog out there.

And then to the movie. I’ve never really been in a theater before that had a guy playing the piano, a food court, and a bar in the lobby. First time for everything. Screw paying $4 for a small popcorn when you can get Sbarro’s and get plastered on $10 drinks all at the same time, right?

We wanted to see Good Night, And Good Luck. There were two showings, one at 9:30 and one at 10. What we didn’t really realize was that the 9:30 was their special Director’s screening, which as far as I can tell is that you get reserved seating in crappy leather chairs. All that for $13. Forget that I usually pay half that to see a movie at home. We were hanging out, having an adventure, having a good time. We paid our $13. Not really sure I would ever do that again, but it was fun for just the once.

The movie was good. The theater was packed. But what was really scary was the fact that Josh and I were probably the youngest people there by a good 20 years, at least. I’m not really sure why the kids weren’t lining up for a black and white movie about a television journalist in the 1950s, but what are you going to do? We can’t all be at pants parties.