This week I took a trip to New York. My original plan was to watch the destruction of the Kosciuszko Bridge which had been scheduled for Tuesday the 11th. The morning I was set to arrive I found out the bridge’s destruction had been postponed but I still had my bus ticket and you don’t need a reason to visit the big city.

I took a Megabus because I’m cheap and was hoping for an eventful journey, but I was disappointed. There were no notable characters or incidents. I supposed this was for the best but I was a bit surprised since Megabus does not a sterling reputation for safety among other things. The only thing remarkable about the trip was I could have easily snuck on the bus without paying and by the time I arrived my ass felt like a piece of wood.

The friend I was staying with picked me up at the bus stop and we stayed out drinking until three AM. This was a nice change of pace compared to my usual weeknight practice of being in bed by 10.
The next day I slept in on account of a hangover but when I woke up my friend insisted we watch an episode of Catfish he had been telling me about. I was skeptical since this was an MTV show, but my friend had never led me astray so I acquiesced. I’m glad I did because it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen on television. The producers of this episode managed to find some dolt who was convinced he had been dating Katy Perry online for the past six years. I won’t go into too much detail in case you, the reader, have any interest in watching this shit show but his teenage dream ended up being a lesbian living in England.

After my mind had been expanded we headed into Manhattan to jack around. Since the bridge’s death sentence had been commuted we were without an agenda. The highlight of our wanderings was finding some Toynbee tiles that had yet to be paved over. If you don’t know what a Toynbee tile is do yourself a favor and watch the documentary Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles.

After our urban anthropology activities concluded we headed to Chinatown to meet my friend’s wife for dinner. One of her co-workers was joining us and while waiting for her to arrive I demanded we track down a durian. We scoured many a fruit stand looking for the pungent luck but it was all for naught. Having all but given hope we came across a Chinese supermarket that was full of interesting items (including a tank full of largemouth bass). There were no durians on the shelves but we befriended a clerk who spoke approximately two words of English, and he took us down to the cellar where they had stockpiled an entire heap of them in a refrigerator.

I had never encountered a durian before and it turns out they are enormous. This thing had to weigh at least 10lbs and it was covered in spikes that while not incredibly sharp weren’t pleasant to touch either.It was a pain in the ass lugging that thing all the way back to Brooklyn but I was determined to sample this pungent delicacy.

We cut the thing open on the roof of my friend’s apartment building, and I’m not going to lie I was nervous. These things have a pretty bad reputation and are banned from mass transit in Singapore. I had no idea what to expect and was mentally prepared to vomit from the stench. Maybe the one I picked out wasn’t a good one because the stench wasn’t nearly as powerful as I expected although it did smell like rotting onions.

I grabbed a big glob of the fruit which was a mistake because in addition to the onion smell it had an oniony taste. I would describe it as tasting like a candied onion. It also had a custard like texture which I wouldn’t describe as delightful. My friends and I didn’t eat much of it but I was happy for the experience. I wanted to fling what remained from the rooftop but ultimately decided against doing so because of societal norms. Maybe next time.

The next morning I got back on the Megabus and headed back to DC better for having had an adventure.


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