I had a half day at work this past Friday. We took off early to go to the Radiohead concert in Newark. Although the concert was good, it just wasn't worth the ordeal. We took the train into the city and enjoyed a bottle of Layer Cake Shiraz on the 1.5 hour journey. We then stopped off at a pub in NYC for some grub before finding our way to the bus that was to take us to the concert. The bus ride over was fine but slow, seeing as how it was rush hour traffic and fairly congested in the Lincoln Tunnel and NJ Turnpike.
When we got there we had another drink or two before finding our seats. Here's where the fun began. We had the worst possible seats ever. Nosebleed doesn't even begin to cover it. Stage left, all the way up. The last seats in the stadium. The Prudential Center has pseudo jumbo trons but they were situated above the stage. So you could only see them if your seats faced the stage. Seeing as the "sold out" concert wasn't really sold out, hubby and I decided to "try out" some other seats. Okay, he went for a beer and I said, "I'm in these seats now." Of course we got booted, so we headed back to our original section only to find people in our seats. So we found some empty seats in our section and plopped down for the remainder of the concert. Well we had to get up several times to make way for people who couldn't sit in their seats for more than five minutes.
After the concert, the kid running the show on the bus decided to sell the sold out seats of the people who originally came with us. He was charging $20pp to any Joe Smoe off the street that wanted a ride back into the city. So when the people who paid for the seats came back to the bus, they were asking why they no longer had a seat. The kid then blasted terrible 80s music while he gyrated in the front of the bus practically giving my husband a lap dance. Good times.
We got back into the city around midnight. Torrential rains started falling and we tried to hail a taxi. Here's a little tip you won't find in visitor's guides. When it pours in NYC, taxi drivers turn on their 'Not in Service' lights and refuse to pick anyone up. Enter hubby tracking down the last of the ponchos in Duane Reed and us trying to figure out the subway system. We sat on the #7 connector train for 30 minutes to go 5 blocks. By the time we reached Grand Central, we ended up making the last train out of the city (1:47am) and getting back to Milford at 3:45am. Our car was parked 1/2 mile from the train station and we walked in a mini hurricane to get to it. We were not happy campers.
The weekend got better on Sunday when hubby and I headed down to our local beach (4 blocks down the hill) and got a bit of sun. With the threat of rain, we then headed over to the local seafood restaurant, Jimmy's, for some scallops, shrimp, and adult beverages before taking a stroll on the boardwalk.