Get Your Game Face On

If you’re looking for the ultimate American experience, you have got to head to a game. We went to see The Brooklyn Nets* v Detroit Pistons at The Barclays Centre, Brooklyn, and it was full-on U-S-Awesome.

 *I went to see Jay-Z’s team. How cool is that? Mr. Brooklyn. He runs this town.

For $39, we got seats right up at the top of the stadium. It’s not advisable for the vertigo-afflicted (you could literally have a chat with Zeus on Mount Olympus from our stand) but the atmosphere was incredible. Snap back caps, foam fingers and corn dogs for as far as the eye could see.

Death potential: High. But what an American way to go. Hamburgers and fries at the funeral fo’sho.

At half time, a guy proposed to his girlfriend in front of the 18,000-strong crowd. These American folk are not shy.

And the American dream did not end there. The ‘Brooklynettes’ cheerleading squad came out and shook what their momma’s gave them (ain’t no spirit fingers in Brooklyn baby), and then fired game tees into the crowd with big bazooka guns.

Dress me in stars and stripes and stick me on an eagle, I am so totally American right now.

Final score: Nets 116, Pistons: 104. Go Nets!

Tartan Day Parade: Bagpipes and Belhaven

Once a year, the entire Scottish community of NYC (top-to-tail in tartan) congregates in Midtown to march ten blocks, from W45th up 6th Avenue to 55th. I’m not even Scottish, but I signed up with my Glaswegian pal Morvern (Girls who drink together, march together… err, said no-one ever).

THIS GUY HAS A SWORD

What a surreal experience. Firstly, I didn’t actually realise we would be marching in the parade. I thought we’d just be waving a few blue and white flags from afar. So walking down the middle of 6th Ave, with hoards of Americans whooping and cheering from the sidewalk, was not what I was expecting when I woke up that morning with a slight hangover.

Who let these scamps in?

I’m still not quite sure why they allowed us to get involved. Quite frankly, we did not fit in with the uniformed groups of professional-looking bagpipe-players.

Dad's Army

And at one point, we were so busy taking pictures of each other on the traffic-free avenue that we got left behind and had to run to catch up… and the crowd clapped us along. God Bless America.

Probably the closest I will ever come to running the NYC marathon

After the parade, a group of us dedicated Scots headed to Shake Shack* in Grand Central for some much needed replenishment. Marching is exhausting.

*If you have never been to Shake Shack, you are missing out. Get on a plane, and go. It is the food of the Gods. Like mega-NOM.

And to top off Morvern’s special day of Scottishness, we went to a bar where it was free-drinks for all of the parade marchers.

Morvern's 'special' day

Now a free bar is generally like sweet bagpipe music to my ears, except that the flyer omitted to mention that the only free drink was a form of Scottish stout called Belhaven.

A word to the wise: Never, ever, drink a pint of Belhaven after a vanilla shake. It is not big, and it most certainly is not clever.

No Place on Earth Like Times Square

Here's just one reason why:

The man, the myth, the legend: The naked cowboy of Times Square
Seriously, how does he get by in the NYC winter time? It is damn chilly over here.

And another:

Honesty is always the best policy

Eat 3$ Jerk Chicken in Bryant Park

I work right in the heart of Times Square (the tourist capital of the universe) so finding good, cheap food is a real insider’s game. 

Head to 2 Bros. Pizza on 1015 Avenue of the Americas and you can pick up the tastiest jerk chicken, rice and peas for just 3$. It wasn’t on the menu boards, but if you ask at the counter they will sort you right out.

Edible delight

The other amazing thing about this hidden gem is the fact it does ‘dollar slice’ pizza that IS ACTUALLY A DOLLAR. You have no idea how many times I’ve been duped by that false sell of 'dollar slice'.

It's not a myth after all

If you head uptown for two blocks you can enjoy this cheap feast in the beautiful Bryant Park - which used to be a cemetery, but if you don’t think about the element of death then it’s a seriously hot lunch location on a sunny NY day.

Bryant Park. It snowed the day before. NY weather is cray

Take in the 'awesome' architecture while you chomp on your chicken

You may spot a guy like this one just having a little cha-cha on his lunch... casuals

Bacon Banter

I made the most amazing revelation today: My NYC flatmate Hugh looks just like Kevin Bacon.

Blows my mind, every time

This is the gift that just keeps on giving. The Bacon-bants are never ending.

Another of my flat mates is originally from India. A DJ from New Delhi no less. I’ve made it my mission to teach him a strange English phrase every day. So far we’ve covered:

1. A Baptism of Fire.
2. Closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.
3. That p*ssed on your bonfire.
4. The straw that broke the camel’s back.
5.  A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

I can foresee that finding another 360 of these could be an effort. Help the cause and comment below.

Let There Be Brunch

In America, they have this incredible concept that goes by the name of BRUNCH.

I’m not talking healthy elevenses here. Unlimited champagne based cocktails for two hours and a meal for anything between $20 to $70 (shrimp bar dive right through to lobster on white linen).

My first NY brunch was in Revels on Little West 12th St, a place with a huge courtyard in the back and Bellinis as the tipple of choice. The waiter had a serious quantity of botox in his face and even more filler in his top lip. It was like some strange optical illusion.

Revels, Little West 12th St. Bellini heaven.

Brunch is amazing, but equally lethal. I’ve heard tales of people dancing on tables by two. In the afternoon.

The funniest thing about brunching (yep, I love doing it so much that I've made it a verb) is that when you leave the restaurant it's still daylight, and most people around you are sober. Invariably, you are not. After Revels I nipped into a bar to use the ‘restroom’ and ended up getting a dozen photos with a 50+ barman who was sporting an excellent flat cap. It was great.

The journey back to Newport, New Jersey on a crowded PATH train… Not so great.

St. Paddy's Day with a Black Gangster Leprechaun

St.Patrick’s Day in America. Now this is an experience.

I went to a bar in Midtown Manhattan (a supposedly brief stop-off before purchasing bedding from Macy’s) and needless to say, things got out of hand pretty fast. Firstly, there was a black ‘leprechaun’ stood on the bar, complete with a huge ginger beard and a ton of gold bling chains. A black gangster leprechaun.

B.G.L

The B.G.L’s best accessory was a bottle of unidentified green alcohol, which was used to decant into the mouths - and navels (!) – of anyone who showed willing. I went for the mouth shot, which actually ended up being a general dowsing, as the B.G.L’s aim wasn’t all that great.

No words

Thankfully I didn’t come into contact with any naked flames while getting lost in Macy’s that afternoon.