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01/09/05 Joe's Ginger; Ten Ren's Tea Time; Chinatown; Subway to Brooklyn w/Fab 4: 


Peter and David at work one something.


This afternoon, Natalie and I went to Bloomingdale's on the Upper East Side of Midtown, to look at some bathroom towels, and to return the ones Natalie originally purchased. We didn't end up getting replacements, but here is Natalie looking like the sophisticated shopper, flipping through some Zagats guide on sale that she doesn't buy.



This evening, Peter, David, Natalie and I headed to Joe's Shanghai for some cheap Chinatown Dinner.





After our meal, we notice that a new Joe's Ginger, which is owned by the same people as Joe's Shanghai, is located down the block on Pell Street. We decide to try it out next time.






We make our way over to Ten Ren's Tea Time for dessert in the form of good Thai Tea.




The place is one of those full-service "bubble tea" places, that happens to have a really good Thai Iced Tea that you can get with Tapioca balls.




For some reason, there is wording along the glass wall in front of the tea counter;
"Poem by Gladstone, 1865.  If you are cole, tea will warm you, If you are heated, it will cool you; if you are depressed; it will cheer you; if you are excited, it will calm you."

WTF!?!?

Some of the letters are missing, and the punctuation seems to be a bit off the mark, if you will, but the idea... that's really odd. It would be cool of the poem progressed from there to actually state something beyond the potentially obvious. But instead, it seems to inspire a reaction similar to when a person sarcastically asks "So?"




I love the particular color of Thai Iced Tea. It's probably the only type of "tea" or "coffee" that I actually like. It's very, very sweet compared to most.

This is the part of the evening, when the sugar in the tea rushes to our heads, and we get silly:







Walking through Chinatown to the Grand Street subway station, I marvel at the dead carcasses, hanging upside down in front of butcher windows.








We pass the lit-up entrance gateway to the Manhattan Bridge. 1909.


I take a photo of the many stories-worth of signs above the street, all in Chinese. They remind me of the old photographs of the Lower East Side from the turn of the century, when the signs would have been in english, hebrew, german, and other european languages.

In the Grand Street station, the next stop on the train is in Brooklyn on the other side of the Bridge... so instead of the sign saying "Brooklyn-bound," it just says "Brooklyn."






The station is a farily un-touched well-preserved (by neglect) example of what station construction and reconstruction looked like in the late 1960's and early 1970's. Rectangular off-white tiles with little to no shine, a strip of pastel blue with the station lettering in a retro-40's sans-serif font, and not much else. It's probably the worst decoration for a subway station... EVER. The only bit of "art" to break up the monotony of the walls throughout the entire Grand street station, is this one odd panel of ceramic work right here. And it's totally creepy! Odd symbols and shapes and characters, inhabiting and protruding from subway cars. Weird. This station COULD reflect it's amazing cultural location on the heart of true (not touristy) Manhattan Chinatown. But no. It's left to be creepy and ugly for now, adding no charm to the persistent smell of rotten fish.


Peter and David have a personal chat for a moment.





And we all digest on the subwat ride to Brooklyn.