I have captivated all of my friends and family for many years with my dating and daily life stories.  Thus, this blog is my opportunity to share these amusing and ridiculous anecdotes with anyone who is interested, bored with their life, passing time or just has the awesome, shit ass luck to run upon it by chance. If nothing else, you will be entertained… 

Tonight I went out to have a low-key dinner with a girlfriend, Melanie, at JG Melon on the UES. Shortly after we sat down, two women and a man were seated at the table next to us.  To say that the quarters were close would be an understatement as my left shoulder was only a few inches from his left arm. He was a big, sort of unremarkable guy.  They sat and ordered drinks which the waitress promptly spilled on his coat as she delivered them.  He never reacted to the spillage but nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the threesome.

Half way through our meal the large lug got up to go to the bathroom I presume.  He seemed to trip on Melanie’s foot and she apologized profusely as he walked a few more feet and turned the corner just behind her.  About three seconds later we heard a crash and a loud thud as he literally hit the ground like a large tree.  I thought he had just tripped again. But there was quite a ruckus and, as Melanie and I peered around the corner, we saw that he was down on the ground and not getting up. Unconscious.  Jesus, not again I thought.  How could I be involved in another 911 call just four days after the last one for another stranger?!  I turned around to his female companions and said calmly “your friend is on the ground. I really think you need to help him.” The shorter, more seemingly drunk now that I was paying attention brunette replied “oh, he’s fine.” “No he is not. You really need to call 911!” I urged her.  As she got up to survey her damaged friend, the more sober blond looked at us and said “I don’t even know him. We just met tonight.”  As if we cared.  “Call 911” was my retort.  I looked behind the bar and one of the bartenders was on the phone I assumed to the police.  Finally, the remaining non-friend of said man down got someone from 911 on her cell and I heard her report that her male companion was approximately 46 and semi-conscious, drunk and in need of assistance ASAP.  As the commotion around us continued, I looked at my friend and said “I do feel badly for these people but I can’t even get involved in this. And after the other night I truly hope it’s not the same cops!”  Let’s just say that the officers of the NYC police department were not nearly as friendly as the NYC fire department but I do realize that they all have tough jobs and they did save the Japanese tourist’s finger.

I must note that the police arrived much more quickly tonight than they did on Tuesday night.  Slow Friday night I wondered?  Or was it because it was the Upper East Side versus some random hotel on West 48^th Street.  Well, it was only 830PM.  Early for NYC on any night of the week.

Several cops managed to get the huge, drunk sad sack situated on a wheelchair of sorts while his female companions scrambled for cash as Melons doesn’t accept credit.  Neither had cash so, unbeknownst to me, Melanie offered to give them cash as did I when I learned they didn’t have any.   I have to admit that other than peering around the corner initially, telling the woman to call 911 and offering them money I didn’t leave my seat.  And I continued to drink my Grey Goose and tonic.  Melanie narrated the scene for me as it was all happening just behind her.  It’s unlike me to not help or engage but perhaps the other night took it out of me a bit, or maybe because it’s Friday and I had a long week, or I just didn’t want to see if any of the officers were duplicates from the other night and deal with what that interaction might entail.   Maybe it’s just that I am exhausted from being back in NYC and from all the weird shit that happens around me on a constant basis and somehow often sticks to me….hence the velcro bit in case you were wondering…..