Day Two

Sunday was a day of highs and lows. We woke up leisurely, had a hot breakfast (waffles on the continental breakfast) and then set out to see Wintuk, a Cirque du Soleil show as Madison Square Gardens. The first bus driver left us even though he was parked at as red light and I tried to wave at him through the window, and we patiently waited for the next bus, which was late. When got on, we meandered through Queens and then Brooklen before we realized that our directions were wrong. I went into a mild panic: the show was due to start any minute and we were still at least 20 minutes away. Thank goodness we got off right near the A train, which took us right into Penn Station. We raced upstairs to MSG. When we got there, I was thoroughly discouraged and asked the woman at the Will-Call window if we should even bother; she assured us that we should: we had missed the first half-hour or so, but had still arrived in time to catch most of the two-hour show. Besides, she explained, we had already paid for it.

And she had a point. We had purchased our tickets a mere 48 hours before the show based on a recommendation from Adrienne, who had seen Wintuk the previous weekend. She also gave us a coupon that took 40% off the ticket price. So tickets that were normally $75 were only $46 (plus the convenience fee). We handed one of the attendants our tickets, and she led us to our seats. We followed her down...and down...and down, before we realized that we were on the left front row! We were stunned! Then, about two minutes later, another attendant walked up and invited us to move to the middle front. That's right...we were front and center for a mere $46! After collecting ourselves, we were treated to a wonderful spectacle. When we traveled to Montreal two years ago, we saw the place were Cirque du Soleil started, and they have kept true to their roots. There were acrobats and gymnasts and dancers and hula-hoopers and contortionists and stilt-walkers and ethereal singers and fantastic costumes and sets that all made for a thoroughly enchanting production. I'm a sucker for confetti (reference "Lovers in Japan" at the Coldplay show), so the snow at the end was just the kind of finale I love.

When the show was over, we ran to Borders for a hot second before planning our route to the meeting (due to begin at 3) and grabbing a quick bite. during the show I had received several text messages that I was responding to among my other running. Meanwhile, I was super-frustrated at my dining options, which seem to consist of either Krispy Kreme donuts or mind-numbingly overpriced food. I realize Penn Station is tourist ground zero, but $7 for a pre-packaged chicken-salad sandwich is outrageous. Finally I found a hot-dog place that had a combo meal for $4.99...a welcomed return to sane pricing. My frustration, however, continued with the utter lack of communication I experienced between myself and the Indian (sorry Jasmine) cashier. I had to remind her to even charge me for the food (which, incidentally, turned into a good witness). I reached in my pocket to hit send on a text-message I hadn't quite sent yet, when...horror...my phone was gone. Long story short...I only had minutes to catch the train and phone was nowhere.

Ladies and gentlemen, it gets better. Asked the MTA person how to get to the address (the Hall) and he gave us a round about train route.  We ended up being amazingly late to the meeting, and bascially only caught the Watchtower study.  But the wonderful meeting and the even more encouraging freinds made it all worth it.  We touched base with a good friend of ours, Esther, which is always a treat.  She walked us to the subway and we started to head home.

Then, on a lark, we decided to get off the train at 42nd Street.  Then, we stop to buy postcards.  Considering we've been to NYC about 1.2 billion times and haven't bought souvenirs there since the 90s, we now realize this was divine direction.  When we go up to pay, the man is clearly Arabic and we are pretty sure is also Morroccan.  We turn out to be correct on both counts and an hour-long conversation ensues that not only did my sister place a Bible Teach book with him in Arabic, but we make arrangements for him to get a follow-up visit with one of our friends (LaShaun) from the Brooklyn Arabic congregation.  While the man was truly Muslim, he was humble and hungry for knowledge and my sister and I felt really good about how the conversation ended. Purely elated, we skipped over to a BBQ place across the street.  I had the most scrumptious bowl of chili ever, and, soon enough, we headed home.