Friday
Or, “the day it clicked that travel between cities this trip was cursed.” First, let me be thankful that I (almost) always leave early (ignore the airport mishap) so that I have a buffer in case everything goes wrong (it’s the anxiety). Second, let me be thankful that the show actually started three hours after I thought it did as I would have been late to arrive otherwise.
It all starts off just fine! I make my subway transfers in New York, get to the station I need to be at to grab a quick train to Jersey, go to buy my ticket andddd the machine and I run into problems. It is insisting I enter my numerical postal code, and I come from a country that uses letters and numbers for those. I try this several different ways. There’s no attendant or anyone to ask, but there is a growing line of people behind me, so I step out of the line and go “okay, what other way can I get there.” (I’ve since been told that just punching in 0s will work!)
With that easy and convenient option ruled out, I backtrack all the way to the train station I arrived at the night before. The train station where I caught an Uber that got lost twice on the way to my friend’s place. The train station that, today, sees me frantically asking “where do I buy a ticket?” to two separate people, and then “where do I go now?” and “sorry, where is that?”. Finally, I’m on what I can only hope is the right train – I genuinely have no idea. But we start moving and at this point I’m just holding my breath for my ticket to be validated as surely if I’m on the wrong train is when I’ll find out.
Which, incidentally, several years ago and very early in the morning, is how I found out that I got on the wrong train in Scotland and wound up having a whole adventure which for reasons I do not remember involved a taxi cab called by the rail line for myself and another couple to get us from the station we were collectively stranded at, and dropped us of at the exact same station I’d started this mess of a trip at. Worth noting that we weren’t travelling together, the universe just didn’t want us going through this alone apparently.
Good news: I’m on the right train! Bad news: by the time I realise we’re at my stop and I’m scrambling to get to the door, the train is leaving the station. Why there wasn’t any sort of announcement about what stop we were at I will never know or understand, but I wound up at Newark airport. And then tried to buy a ticket to head back towards my actual destination, which wasn’t working (because the machine wasn’t for that but I was a little frazzled at this point). A lady working at the airport told me to just get back on the train going the opposite direction because this happens to people all the time, which was a nice reminder of “everything is not the end of the world,” and also “wow you are all way nicer than anyone I would have encountered back home, okay.”
I make it to Newark! I did it, everything is great! I step out of the train station, turn left to go down the street leading to my hotel and… is that a car on fire in the middle of the road? That’s a car on fire in the middle of the road. That’s – oh that car just exploded a little bi- oohhh that’s a lot of fire. Okay. Not going that way. Another explosion okay, backing up and not going that way!
That is, by far, the most eventful thing that I experience in Jersey – thank goodness. There’s only a certain amount of “exploding car” levels of excitement I can handle, and I think that caps at one. At this point the tentative part two of my interview with Jonathan is set for New York, so I spend the time until doors listening over part one and taking notes on what I want to follow up on, in addition to the questions we didn’t get through initially.
Jersey’s merch setup is very different, in that I’m barely able to squeeze in between the table and stage to get to our side of things. The table is also so wide that I spend the night hurling the upper half of my body across it in order to shout in various ears. It’s also a very cool venue in that merch is right next to the stage, and there’s a significant amount of room behind the table so it’s like a little private dance floor, which is great.
This is also the show which, understandably, absolutely ruins my voice. There’s really nothing left by the end and the only reason I’m still getting sound out is through a copious number of throat lozenges.
Keeping in mind that this show was in December 2023 and it is now May 2024, there’s only two interactions that have really stuck in my mind. The first is that one of guys who came to the table bought basicslly one of everything, and then forgot a notable amount of change, leading to weaving onto the dance floor after him to make sure it hadn’t been a mistake (it was, he was very grateful). I don’t remember his name, which isn’t surprising as I’m terrible at names, but is unfortunate as I’ve seen him twice since! Great guy, fantastic energy, and was really having an absolute blast on the dance floor – some people are just fun to watching having fun, and he’s one of them!
The second is the man who was going around and selling roses – a regular at the club. He’s been going there for years and while we didn’t speak, how known and appreciated he was by everyone there really struck me. That he’s part of the community around this place warmed my heart to see, as it tends to!
During ‘City Lights’ I took a moment to really appreciate where I am – and that this is my third Urban Heat show of the week, and fifth show of theirs I’ve been to since March. And just… what a world, what a life. There’s immense gratitude for having been able to take this trip, and the friends I’ve been staying with as without them this wouldn’t have been possible. Being in the crowd, surrounded by all these people singing and dancing and swaying along feels very special. Being able to be here isn’t something I ever want to take for granted.
Jersey is also where Pax tries to steal my boots. By which I mean he tells me he likes them, asks if he can try them on and I, incredibly confused and barely conscious as it was sometime after 3am and I usually wake up at 5am, went “sure???” because yeah it was an unexpected question but not one that struck my sleep-deprived self as particularly weird! He laughs when he tells me he’s just kidding, explaining that’s how kids would steal shoes. And listen I know this isn’t the point, but if anyone could run in those boots the first time putting them on? They might deserve to have them!
I get back to my hotel, collapse on the bed and the groan I let out is long. Tonight’s show was great, the most fun for me yet, but between leaning way the heck over the table for hours and then dancing until the club closed, my body is tired. The time it takes me to fall asleep is negligible, and while there’s a lingering thought of “I need to eat,” it isn’t more pressing than my need to sleep. It’s light out almost immediately, with the knowledge of an early train back to NYC in the morning.
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That’s all for this week! Until next time, stay cozy, and if you want to join your companions around the cauldron, signup for email updates below!
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