Good morning, 2014. I am so beyond relieved for 2013 to have left the building,as I'm sure many of you are too.
It was a year for me of feeling out of sorts on so many different levels, but most of all, for not being true to myself. For the record, I'm not going through some big cheesy new age breakthrough because it's the new year. But it just so happens that the end of the year put a nice little bow on that sentiment, and I'm taking advantage of some naf stuff happening at year's end to make me realize I really needed to make some changes, even if they were forced upon me faster than I thought they would be. But job stress aside, nothing can quite compare to the feeling of losing one's ticket at Katz's. Nothing at all.
am not a big pastrami person and though I appreciate the magic of an old school spot like Katz's still kicking it, I'm very happy to pass it by and roll my eyes at the ten deep line of tourists waiting to put their big pie holes around some freshly carved meat. But with family in town, you have to do some New York things you would probably otherwise ignore. So with pounds and pounds of winter coats and hats and gloves and scarves, in we trudged to the smoked meat stalwart, where large doormen (who felt more appropriate for checking IDs at some club than standing guard at a deli counter) hustled us in and yammered on about some rules of the house, while I distractedly looked around and wondered what is wrong with America. (I do that a lot lately). Yea, there's signs and stuff that tell you to hold on to that little sucker while you inhale some food, but the chaos going on around the place is a potent distraction.
If you have not been to Katz's, you should go and experience it, just don't go when everyone else goes (lunchtime on a holiday weekend) and you should be able to fill your maw with all of the pastrami or corned beef or pickles your cholesterol laden heart could want. To me, people feasting in this sheep like way is most unappealing- being herded like cattle to eat a bunch of dead animals is just not really my thing. Factor in the 700 degree temperature and glazed eye look of too many tourists and you have a a recipe for "get me the fuck out of here". You'd think right?
After finding seats, a few of my family members sat themselves down- my father in law's wife had the unfortunate opportunity to have her back directly against the ladies room door. The rest of the gang looked to be in in to win it- David and his dad and my sister's husband. It took me about three seconds to realize that my sister and my niece and nephew were not going to fare well in this meshugas, and before I knew it, they bailed for the Remedy diner, a few blocks away and admittedly less insane. (Still hot though, WTF New York- get some modern heat already- this radiator shit is killing me).
When my own panic about being hot and crowded by meat zombies officially seized my very own being, I excused myself from the table and made a break for it. I bumped into several scores of bundled up children and several tourists who are not well versed in New York crowd etiquette. Finally I reached the front door, and that's when the shit started. I had lost my little yellow ticket and the door goons would not let me leave.
Yes, I know. Everybody knows you must show a ticket to leave the joint. When said door goons were telling us that I had totally ignored them, because I was overwhelmed by the siege of people and the need to control the situation for ten members of my family who had never been in this level of crazy. But guess what? Because I was so busy worrying about everyone else not losing their minds in such a situation, I lost mine. And I equate losing my mind to losing this ticket because without it, there's no getting out of Katz's.
After much persuading and manager wrangling and pleading everything from chronic panic attacks to menopause, I managed to get out of there, WITHOUT that damn ticket, but not before making a huge scene- not something I enjoy on any level. Apparently there's a $50 fine for such things, but I found my way out, wallet in tow, and sanity too. If there's a moral of the story- it's threefold and goes something like this:
If you are willing to break the rules, you have to be wiling to pay the price- losing a ticket at a place like Katz's can lead to public humiliation, a fine, and a whole lot of bullshit. If you, like me, are too rebellious to pay attention when the rules are read, be ready to plead your case to a very unsympathetic jury. Surely you have way more charisma than I do, so I won't worry about you. Keep breaking the rules. Way more fun that way.
Don't do whatever everyone else does and don't worry about what everyone else wants. If you know enough to know that grown people in your life can handle finding a seat and eating a sandwich, that's half the battle. That doesn't mean you have to join them- they will most likely enjoy it despite you, and will probably be happier when they don't have to hear you kvetch about the whole thing. Don't worry, they'll catch up with you later. Go get a coffee or something. Spending too much time worrying about others is going to make you nuts. Trust that they will find their way.
Hold on to that stupid ticket- As pointless as a yellow piece of carnival cardboard may seem, it's more important than you think. Just squirrel that shit away for safe keeping- you never know when you're going to need it and then you don't have to worry about it. Nobody likes to be yelled at- but again- if you can't handle following the rules, see the first one I wrote above. Rebelliousness and ticket loss go hand in hand. After I mentioned to one of the doormen that he probably "wouldn't talk to his mother like that", he zinged back with "yea, well my mother wouldn't be dumb enough to lose her ticket". Ugh.
Oh and here's a freebie- just be yourself. Had I listened to my intuition when I saw the line at Katz's and felt the hot breath of a thousand tourists on my neck (pre-pastrami thank the Lord), I would have walked myself right down to Russ and Daughters and ordered the Super Heeb like the mensch I am. I hate pastrami and I hate crowds. So I had no real business being there in the first place. Sure my family wanted to go, but again, it's worse to bring the party down than to just not show up at all. I'm sticking to that. Oh, and if I'm making any analogy to the type of year I had in 2013, it's that I think I constantly had the feeling I was showing up without a ticket, yet somehow, I didn't feel like looking for it, because I know it could not be found and I would find my way out anyway. I always do.
2014 baby- I'm going to try and hold on to those tickets while still being true to me- I just can't guarantee I won't lose a few along the way- I'm not good at being told what to do and never have been. Cause that's what's up this hot pastrami of a Wednesday on this very first day of 2014. A fresh start, people. A Fresh Start. That I'd wait in line for- let's just hope I can write my OWN ticket this time. XO
OH, AND HAPPY NEW YEAR LET'S DO THIS.