The original plan was to fly to San Diego for the Fourth of July weekend. I have never been to the sunniest city in the country and the Yankees would be in town playing the Padres. Simultaneously crossing a city and baseball stadium off the list over a long weekend sounded like a solid plan to me.
Then, my cousin Anthony called. His fiancé was flying to New York to look for a wedding dress and she suggested he tag along to see me (after all, I am in the wedding). Also the last time Anth stayed with me in the city, there were still boxes from the movers in my living room; it had been a few years.
So I scratched the plans to fly out, took Friday off of work, and bar-hopped with my cousin on the Upper West Side. It was fun for a couple of reasons: I love when I get to spend time with him and given my schedule, a weekday happy hour is as rare as a Donald Trump apology. Not to mention that when he visited me just months after I moved here, I wasn’t as familiar with the area and we didn’t spend much time at my apartment anyways. So it was nice to have a lay of the land and show him around – from the excellent Bloody Mary at The Dead Poet to the oyster and Italian beer special at Tarralucci e Vino.
On Friday night we ate dinner with his fiancé’s family. They spent Saturday dress shopping; we eased in to the day by heading downtown and finding Anthony a tuxedo at my favorite boutique, John Varvatos’ flagship store at 315 Bowery, the old CBGBs. From there, we celebrated with a few more beers, watched Italy lose to Germany (ugh) in the EuroCup, then made our way to Citi Field where the Mets beat the Cubs (another ugh).
Sunday was another great day; brunch on the roof of Eataly and pizza from Grimaldi’s with another Bloody Mary or two in between. They took off in the afternoon for the airport and I headed back to my hood to run in Central Park and begin working off the libations.
It was a perfect weekend: Anthony found his tux, his fiancé found her dress and I can still look forward to visiting San Diego one day.