My friend Chad was in New York City this week on business, but had pretty much all of Friday free. For the first time in the 11 years we’ve known each other, he was finally somewhere close by enough where we could meet up.
Naturally, I filled out the paid time off form for my work, telling management:
I trust this will remain private and confidential, and I feel you deserve the honest truth.
The woman I’ve kidnapped and been keeping in my trunk for the past week now has 3 days worth of food next to her and is starting to smell. I will be travelling out-of-state to meet a friend who will help me dispose of the body. We’ll then be going out for smoothies.
Fortunately, only some of management thought this might be a serious concern which should be reported to the authorities. I was still a free man to travel to NYC, the perfect city to meet Chad in.
Without further adieu, THE MAP!
That’s right. Chad and I are about two of the biggest Ghostbusters losers you could possibly imagine, and we hold that unique label with great pride. We set off to see several of the cooler locations used to film one of the greatest movies ever made.
Please join me as I regale you with the retelling of our journey and links to pretty pictures!
Can you think of a better way to start a trip around New York with a friend you’ve never met than with a parking ticket for a hundred and fifteen bucks? Neither could I, so that’s exactly what I did!
I found a spot on the street between a few cars, bought an hours worth of parking and put the receipt on my dashboard as it instructed. Twelve minutes later, I had myself a ticket for exactly one ass-raping, and no clue as to why.
After that, we headed towards the nearest stop on our map, the Public Library. After finding a fairly decent spot to park, Chad tossed his Discover card into the meter. About 3 minutes of doing nothing, it told us it couldn’t process the card. While he pulled another card out of his wallet, a kind citizen that saw us having trouble came and asked if we had commercial plates on our car. Obviously I do not, which gives a good clue as to why I got that ticket. If only there had been some mention on the actual verification, or at least mention of this on the parking meter, rather than some poorly worded and confusing sign I later noticed 20 feet in the air. That would make too much sense, I guess. We then hopped back in the car and discovered that there’s not a single bloody spot to park in the entire area that doesn’t require commercial plates, and put the Library temporarily on hold.
Our first successful stop was multifaceted. The doorman at Dana Barrett’s apartment had seen no bears run out, which was a good thing. Right next door, the church that the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man had stepped on has been very nicely restored from sticky rubble. Across the street, I banged on the window of the Tavern on the Green just as Louis Tully did when he was being chased by a terror dog. Just as with Louis, none of those rich, hungry bastards gave a damn. I also found a potato.
After that, we had another try at getting to the Library, this time using a parking garage. In the movie, it looks like the Reading Room is immediately there when you enter the building. In reality, you go up three flights of stairs and take a right. It looks way more tightly packed than in the movie. We asked if we could go down into the stacks, where our heroes encountered their first ghost. The answer? “No. Definitely, absolutely no.”, then after a short pause of us looking with shock and disbelief, “There are 80-miles of shelving in there, we’re afraid you’ll get lost.” Regrettably, we left without getting a picture of books stacked on top of each other. I may never forgive myself.
Across the street is where the Manhattan City Bank used to be. Since neither of us took out a third mortgage on our house, we stopped for lunch. In a city with as much diversity and culture as New York, we of course went to T.G.I.Friday’s, for good ol’ chain-restaurant goodness. It was there, we were hungry, shut up.
After lunch, we headed over to Hook & Ladder 8, the fire-station the Ghostbusters used as their headquarters. Chad spoke of other fan’s accounts of the resident firefighters, and how cool they always were with Ghostbusters freaks. Our own experience brings to question the credibility of those people.
I knocked on the door and a guy opened it up a crack. “Hi! We’re huge Ghostbusters fans”, said Chad.
“….yeah.” was his enthused response.
He then let us in to see the wall of memorabilia. There was a collection of photos with the cast & crew with firefighters and their families, and way up high on the wall, the actual plastic sign they used on the front of the building from Ghostbusters 2. They also had t-shirts, combining both the Ghostbusters and firefighter’s logos. We each bought one.
While we tried finding a few other nearby locations, like Shitty Hall and the Municipal Building, Chad’s flight was fast approaching and he needed to get to the airport. We headed towards his hotel so I could find my way home, hailed a cab for him, and he was off.
We have an idea which might get us into the library stacks, the sewers, other hard to access locations, and give us better parking to boot. No clue if it will ever come to fruition, but it will be amazing if it does.