Slips, Trips and Falls in New York City

For an enthusiastic beer drinker and attender of pubs like me, New York is a bit of a haven. I guess that the larger the conurbation, in general the wider the variety of places available. This seems to be true in New York, although I am far from an expert in this, as I have only experienced New York as a tourist.

So Jean-Jacques and I were out on the town, looking for a few beers, some fun and some good music. Although it is a largely unfamiliar town to me J-J was much more familiar. And we'd had some good advice on where to go out from others (including Benedict Alexander) as well.

A New York bar, is a very different animal to a London or UK pub. For a start the North American commitment to customer service is usually there. Bar maids flirt much more freely with the male punters, and one is freed from the hassle of queing at the bar: A drink is brought to your table as soon as you finish the last one (sometimes before).

J-J and I must have both had tiring days (hard work being on holiday, you know) and the clock was ticking on, when we both decided to retire gracefully to the hotel. "Let's get the metro home".

The NY subway is a strange creature late at night. I didn't think that is was a frightening or intimidiating place. Just strangely quiet. Even eerie. Sometimes you might be the only people on the platform. Although of course there are plenty of rodents for company.

The main problem that J-J and I had with getting home, was that we usually travelled about with Benedict-Alexander; and when he wasn't there, we were rather lost without him. During an unecessary excursion up a stair from the undeground station to the street, J-J started running up the stairs several at a time. He did this with some haste........and I've never grown out of a boyish desire to compete.

So there I was, after a few beers and shod in hiking boots (to keep out the snow and icy puddles of a February New York), bounding up the stairs after him. Must get to the top first. Faster and faster I went in my semi-innebriated state.

But J-J is fast. He's an athlete. I am not. And I should have acknowledged this, and duly sauntered up the stairs slowly after him. But I didn't, and three quarters of the way up the long stair case, I caught a hiking boot on the lip of a stair and came crashing down. I also caught my elbow on the railing on the way down. A very minor injury, but this bothered me for the next week or so; it also made hitherto straighforward tasks like putting on rucksacks, much more difficult.

Well, after some more messing around J-J and I got home. I took my sore shoulder to bed with me. Am I too old to be doing myself minor injuries whilst racing friends up stairs (I'm 31 years young). Or is it a refreshing sign of youth in someone who might in other circumstances be described as middle aged. Not sure.......answers on a blog comment?