Manhattan on a Tuesday

“I went to New York City on Tuesday. Random, but you only live once. As of then, I have re-determined New York City is my heaven. While wandering throughout Madison Ave. I went past every store I simply adore, but couldn’t afford a thing without a 99 percent discount.”

I went to New York City on Tuesday. Random, but you only live once. As of then, I have re-determined New York City is my heaven. While wandering throughout Madison Ave. I went past every store I simply adore, but couldn’t afford a thing without a 99 percent discount. There was Jil Sander, Juicy Couture, Nicole Miller, Prada – basically a fashion utopia.
Next to my fashion tooth is my sweet tooth. There are some places and things, like Starbucks and going to class, that get all the hype and popularity, but then turn out to be nothing great. That is not the case when it comes to Manhattan’s ever popular cupcake expert, Magnolia Bakery.
These delicious, ever-so-amazing cupcakes are made hourly and put out for customers to either eat right away, or take away by the boxes. When in Manhattan, it’s vital to make this Bleeker St. stop.
Along with the fashion and sugar galore is Central Park and its celebrity spotting. While venturing throughout the little children and squirrel infested park, a tall, skinny orangish-blonde haired woman jogged away while pushing a stroller.
My friend nudged me in order to laugh at her ridiculousness, and I realized it was Alex from The Real Housewives of New York City. I laughed out loud and her ridiculous-named child peered out of his $6,000 stroller at me.
Although I did have great times during my weekday-trip to the city, there were the negatives.
For instance, a girl who may have not taken a shower in over a month sat in front of us at the Dave Matthews concert and then there was the girl who proceeded to grind on her boyfriend during the entire show, even when the music wasn’t playing.
The free parking at the hostel wasn’t really free and there were no outlets to charge phones and camera batteries in our room.
But what made all of the Dave concert/hostel negatives go away were our bunk mates who so happened to be Germany’s Channing Tatum and Italy’s shrimpier, but still hunky Antonio Bandares.
Channing and Antonio, as I called them via text message to my friends, could barely understand and speak English.
Now, driving back to Akron, I’m Prada, cupcake and hot foreign guy-less and working for the weekend