Tuesday, March 8, 2016

One, Whiz, Wit

My brother texted me last week and said he was thinking of going to Philadelphia. I figured he was inviting me because I'm such an awesome travel companion, so I said sure I'll go. He said he was inspired by Anthony Bourdain's stop on the Layover. Philly is only 5 hours away and I had been cooped up for most of February with swine flu (yes, I had real swine flu, H1N1, not sure why so many people thought it was a god damn joke) so I thought it would be a chance to stretch my legs and have an adventure.

We headed out of Lowell after pumping up the tires, fueling up, and grabbing iced coffees at McDonald's.  In Harvard, MA driving on 495 with all windows and doors closed a felt drops. I noticed Mike had just put his coffee down so I said -what are you leaking? Then when I looked at him I noticed there was coffee splashed all over the passenger window. I was wondering what the hell was going on. I never found out the answer to that question, but here's a photo of him cleaning the window with napkins. 

I took 495 then 290 through the Worcester hills before making a pit stop at the Charlton plaza.   When I got back to the car I said -where the fuck is my coffee?  Evidently, Mike had thrown out my 2/3 full French vanilla with cream along with his empty one. Apparently, "get rid of that" implies put all the empty AND full containers in the nearest trash.  Regardless, I was better off without the remaining caffeine because I'm ultra sensitive to it and I crash hard.  Didn't need that today. 

Somewhere near Elizabeth, NJ we nearly died.  Fortunately, I'm a great driver with quick reflexes, outstanding road vision, and a zen-like attunement to my surroundings. There weren't many cars on the road and I was noticing a trailer truck right in front of us getting a bit close to a white hatchback with a surf board on the roof.  All of a sudden the truck is honking and it begins to shake and fishtail in a plume of burnt rubber smoke.  Mike yells something, but I had already given us some distance and was braking and planning an evasive maneuver if the rig tipped.  

Shockingly, outrageously, and preposterously the truck driver steadied the rig and kept on going and the incident was over. We couldn't believe the truck didn't flip or spin out.  It was going about 75 mph and wiggling like Rihanna so it was an impressive feat keeping it upright. 

When we got off 95 in south Philadelphia my first observation was -this place looks like it was carpet bombed. Mike said it looked like Godzilla went on a rampage. We continued on our course for Geno's to compare cheesesteaks with Pat's King of Steaks right across the street. 



In the car I taught him how to order cheesesteaks in Philly. You say "one, whiz, wit." That means "can I please have one cheesesteak with cheese whiz (or provolone or American) with onions (or without). He said something about not loving onions but for the sake of comparison he'd abide.   I stressed the importance of getting the same order.  I went to Geno's and he went to Pat's.  Then we met back at a table at Geno's. 
Ordering instructions at Pat's



Geno's on the left
I ate my half of Geno's. I noticed the bread was delicious, lots of onions, drippy whiz, and thin on the steak. 

Then I went for Pat's. I said -not a lot of onions on this one.  Mike then informed me that he didn't get onions because he doesn't like them.  Oh ok. 

After venting about the onions I had to refocus to be able to give America answers.  Pat's bread is thinner and almost had a stale texture to it, but not in a bad way.  Brighter yellow whiz.  Steak seems to have more flavor and is slightly more chopped and there was more of it. 


Mike made a run to get drinks, which I desperately needed. I sat there and thought about which I liked better.  I decided I prefer Pat's. 

When we got back in the car Mike said they were ok and added that he thought Carl's in Newton was just as good, and that he wouldn't drive 5 hours for one, even though we just pretty much did exactly that.  

We searched our apps and found a hotel and headed to the Franklin Hotel at Independence Park to check-in.  It was nice to be staying a block away from where the Declaration of Independence and Constitution were signed.  I was basking in the spirit of freedom and would appreciate sleeping in the cradle of liberty.

Once we settled in it was about 330 and there was still some light left in the day so we decided to stroll around Independence Park.    Both Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell had brutally long lines so we vibed with the scene from the outside.  You can see the Liberty Bell through the windows so I didn't feel a need to stand right next to it, I put eyes on it and I was satisfied with that.  


The Signer


Mike at Independence Hall



We wanted to see a bit more of the city so we hopped on a double decker bus tour.  We talked the tour guide down from $30 to $20 and climbed aboard.


We saw Paddy's Pub, a giant bust of Ben Franklin, and Chinatown.  I was awed by the grandeur of city hall.  It is the world's tallest masonry building and on top is a 37 foot statue of William Penn.





Mike's buddy from the tour
We passed by the Rodin Museum with the Thinker pondering out front, a golden Joan of Arc statue, which the tour guide enjoyed calling Joanie on her pony, and about an hour into it we had to retreat the the warm comfort of the first level of the bus because we were nearly frozen.  After the tour we headed back to hotel for a rest before heading out for the evening.





On his way back from the 2nd Street Brew Pub Mike said he saw a place advertising the UFC fight tonight.  Our goal was to post up somewhere that was showing the Conor McGregor fight and grab some dinner.  We walked two blocks to the place he saw and immediately there was red flags.  There was a $20 cover and we got patted down going in the door.  Then a hostess showed us the seating options and explained that there was a $50 minimum per table.  Later Mike said he heard her say per person.  When I showed my displeasure and disinterest in the tables she had shown us she said we could seat you in the hookah lounge and I said we want our money back -we're leaving.  Surprisingly, it was done easily.  Although the fact that I whipped out my oxygen machine and cannula may have expedited their willingness to refund us.  Either way, we were heading to the Field House, where I originally intended to go.

We arrived to a mob scene at the Field House.  We busted through the crowd to the restaurant seating area and landed a high top table in view of plenty of televisions and with space to to be comfortable, and more importantly no table minimums and a seemingly less likelihood of violence.

It was about 930 at this point so we had a couple of hours before the fight.  I ordered a ginger ale, bacon popcorn, and buffalo wings to get us started.  The ginger ale tasted like poison so I didn't trust the soda gun at this place and ordered a bottle of Bud Light, the first beer I've had in six months.  I really felt the in the spirit of 1776 since beer was the only thing safe to drink.

Mike complained about how spicy the buffalo wings were and was saying he wanted a glass of milk as a band played a mash-up of 90s and 2000s pop hits.

Mike started fading around midnight.  I was tired too but I was here to see this fight and there was no way I was leaving.  I did feel bad because he was about to go to sleep on the table because he said he had worked 12 days in a row.  He ordered a Red Bull vodka to get a boost right before the Holly Holm-Miesha Tate fight.  Now, I've never been a big UFC guy but I like big fights.  McGregor is a classic trash-talking, swaggering personality that gets people's attention.  I watched his last fight in Long Island with my buddy Collins and he knocked out Jose Aldo in 13 seconds for a thrilling victory.  Big fights are all about pre-fight hype.

A little while later when the Holm-Tate fight was starting the band stopped playing and the TV volume was turned up and all the TVs went to UFC.  From across the table I hear Mike boom "FUCK HER UP!"  He was awake now.

The first of the co-main events ended with Tate choking out Holm for an upset.  It was getting close to 1 a.m. and I wanted to go to bed.  The McGregor fight started and the first round was entertaining with a good amount of punched thrown.  McGregor's fists didn't seem to have much of an effect on the bigger Diaz.  In the 2nd, McGregor tired and a bloodied Diaz caught him with a good one on the jaw.  People at the bar knew what was coming and I jumped out of my seat to stand up and yelled "he's got 'em!" to Mike.  About a minute later McGregor was tapping out of a choke hold.  We booked it out of there in case there was a rush for taxis or Ubers.

I woke up on the sofa bed and let Mike sleep in.  We left the hotel just before 11 and went looking for breakfast near Penn U.  We stumbled upon Federal Donuts.  I ordered two cold brew coffees and two donuts - a cinnamon brown sugar and a lemon meringue.

Wow.  The lemon meringue was the best donut I've ever had.

Awesome donuts!

We headed to the Philadelphia Museum of Art and it was pay what you wish on the first Sunday of the month.  I paid $1.  I wanted to see the International Pop exhibit so we headed in that direction through the crowds.

Mike taking in the International Pop exhibit

This was one of my favorite pieces in International Pop.  I was buzzing so hard from the cold brew coffee that I didn't stop to read anything.  International Pop seemed to be a celebration of pop art, but it terrified me.  The vibe I got was that we've all become standardized.  Eccentricity is dead and if you deviate from the standard path you are bullied on social media.

Mike enjoying The Large Bathers, obviously.   





Mike studying Picasso's self portrait

Mike comparing Monet and Manet

Mike's favorite piece

No comments:

Post a Comment