It is true that I spent a few days (5 actually…but who’s counting?) in the Big Apple. I had lots of work to do and very little time to myself. Or…did I? My blogger friend, Facebook confidante and all around amazing photographer, Nathalie With An H, apparently went out and stalked me as I had some fun in the city. But is HER report of my exploits true? Or fabricated? Tell you what…here is HER version of what went down. And a little later, I’ll give you MY version and you decide. Here’s what H says she saw as she tagged along on my little trip…
From Special Envoy in New York, nathalie with an h
The day Alan informed his fellow bloggers that he would be away for a while incommunicado “for work”, I felt something was amiss. For one, Alan has mastered the art of pretending to work, not actually toiling like the rest of us, and second, he seems like a dude with a wireless internet router implanted in his brain: he wordpresses, facebooks, twits, and probably iPhones as well.
I smelled a rat… So I followed him to New York.
After checking in, he left his room like a man on a mission, a man with a purpose. He entered a photo studio in the neighborhood.
He purchased an 8×10 and several wallet-sized prints of the commemorative image, something he could show his grand-children one day. He was all giddy!
The rest follows….
As he skipped joyfully on the sidewalk, he encountered a fireman coming out of Starbucks. Five minutes later, Alan was riding the bright red shiny fire engine. The firemen seemed tres amused.
That evening, Alan ordered room service – lots of alcohol seemed involved. He invited the tie sale rep from across the hallway to partay with him. I bribed the waiter to take a snapshot of Alan in his hotel room around midnight.
So far, no work, right?
The next morning, I was curious to see if Alan would at least pretend to work a little. He left very early… carrying a mysterious plastic bag and hailed a cab. I hailed one too. I could see him moving a lot in the back of his taxi. What was he doing and more importantly, where were we going? He stopped in front of Central Park. It was the Annual Renaissance Festival and…holy moly… Alan was a closet elf!!!
I could see now the actual extent of his deception! He stayed at the festival the whole day, encouraging the knights jousting, winking at fair maidens, and playing Drench-a-Wench as if he was in Vegas.
That evening, hotel management kindly requested Alan find another sandbox as he had deeply disturbed the peace the night before and was scaring the guest in his elf outfit.
He packed and headed straight to a youth hostel. It appears that Mr. Alan TV partied hard with the kids, showing them how it’s done!
For his last day in New York City, the Ashley Dupree obsessed Alan followed the Spitzer family everywhere for three hours.
After lunch (Alan took a lot of time to find a restaurant in NY as we all know how difficult it is to obtain sustenance in the Big Apple), he walked to Broadway and entered a theater. I saw him briefly talk to the director and an exchange of money took place.
He was then invited on stage for a photo op with the cast of Cats… but not before a little make-up was applied.
Then Alan took the print, squeezed it against his little heart, and wiped a tear of emotion. Who knew Alan was such a big fan? He left directly to the airport, trying to compose himself as someone who had been working very hard for the last three days.
I stayed another night. Just for fun. Not that following that goofball around had not been entertaining… but I needed a little time sans Alan!
That evening, walking around Time Square, I looked up and there it was… A shiny billboard of the Lion King… Starring Alan TV!!!
All this time, I thought the exchange of money with the theater director was about posing with a few felines, but nenni, my friend, nenni! Alan had bought himself an evening of fame, an evening of being the king… for the evening.
So next time Alan writes that he is going somewhere to work, don’t believe him one bit. The dude is probably either attending another Renaissance Festival or buying himself another billboard. Alan is tres misunderstood.