Today ended up being a busy day. I again kind of lallygagged the morning away and then we made our way up to Central Park/Guggenheim area to have a little look-see. We really only made it as far as Time Square.

Time Square is pretty nuts. Everyone is either a tourist or someone selling something for tourists. The area itself is sensory overload as you would expect. More compact than Piccadilly Circus and more going on. As we were walking through we got about two blocks before we were stopped by someone from the Late Show with David Letterman, asking if we wanted tickets. Initially we both reacted like people do when they get stopped by people handing out fliers on the street, but then quickly realized that this was actually something we should accept. The woman was super nice and five minutes later we were in line at the Ed Sullivan Theater for our tickets. On our way out we got pulled aside with another couple while the rest of the group was given the usual rundown on how it will all go down for the taping. We weren't told what for, and it kind of felt like we had gotten in trouble somehow.

One of the guys walked us outside and told us that we had been selected because of our... how did he put it... I can't remember exactly, but he said we "caught someone's eye", which you can take for whatever you choose. What it meant for us is that we would be in the first two rows on the ground, a few yards away from either Paul or Dave and whatever special guest was on. We walked around the corner to get a corned beef on rye from Rupert's Deli (seems like the kind of guy who would prefer not to be famous), and then took our places in the Theater.
In about twenty minutes we were fully brainwashed into cheering like maniacs when we were prompted before taking our seats. The theater really is cold. Can't quite see your breath, but close. Cool place. The set behind Letterman is quite neat in person. The guy who opened to get the audience going was really funny (I think he's the guy that does it for every taping), and then Dave came out for about five minutes to gauge the audience, apparently. Told a few jokes, took a question or two, and generally blessed us with his presence. The guy is a legend. He's just a guy, really, but you really get taken in when he's there in front of you.

It was the Halloween show, so we were in for a treat, apparently. You may have seen the show, so I won't go into it. Guests were Ashley Olson, Paul Rudd (hilarious), and John Legend. Olson seemed to be hard work, what with the complete lack of personality, but Paul Rudd was great. Overall I don't think it would have mattered who the guests were. Definitely worth checking out.

Right, so to backtrack a bit, not two minutes after we were given the Letterman ticket, we were stopped by a guy who gave us tickets to the Comic Strip Live for that night, which is the place Seinfeld did his opening bits (in front of the brick wall).

We had also planned on going up the Rockefeller Center to have a look around. This meant that between Letterman and the Comic Strip Live, we had to squeeze in a trip to the top of the Rock.
We left the show in good time but the next available time for the Rock wasn't for another hour, which left us with about 45 minutes to take all of Manhattan in. We wandered around a bit before heading up, getting a cup of tea and hot chocolate (it was actually pretty nippy out) and watching a lady on the skating rink at the Rockefeller Center spin slowly in one spot with her arms out until we got bored with it. The Xmas tree wasn't up yet, thankfully, but it probably would have been if it were England.

Up we went in the fastest elevator I've ever been in (covered the 68 floors in about fifteen seconds), past the security guard who made fun of me, and out onto the Top of the Rock. It was definitely something. I would have liked to see it during the day for a bit more perspective, but Manhattan at night is something to behold as well. We tried to make it in time for sunset, which we would have just made, but hadn't taken into account any queue. Anyway, you get a 360 degree view of Manhattan and the surrounding burrows, Central Park, all the bridges, the lot. It's magic. At night, it's all pretty twinkly and such, and the sky kind of does it's best to mirror the buildings as there seemed to be dozens of planes coming and going from all the airports around New York. It was like being in a field at night with a swarm of fireflies. I'm probably remembering it more dramatically than it was, but it made an impression on us at the time.

It's weird being so high and thinking it should seem higher. Maybe it's because all the other buildings around you are also really tall, but even if you focused on the cars driving around I thought it should have seemed higher. Still bloody high, but more than that it was a fantastic view. Next time we'll catch it at sunset.

We had to rush off to catch a cab to take us to the Comic Strip Live, which was 22 blocks north, and we had about fifteen minutes to make it. Apparently it was about the time the theater lets out, so all the cabs were taken. This was what the bicycle cabbie told us, anyway. We tried to turn him down a few times and he started to get aggressive, and when guaranteed that he could get us there on time, we chalked it up to another experience and got in.

If a bicycle cabbie tries to force you into a ride, or you have to go more than about three blocks, just walk away. We got there in good time, and he really put in a good effort, but whereas the cab ride back to the hotel at the end of the night was $10 with tip and took about ten to fifteen minutes, the bicycle ride took fifteen to twenty minutes for less than half the distance and cost us $25, after our special first-time user deal, so apparently it would have cost us $40. This is probably a load of rubbish, but either way, just take a cab. Or, at the very least, don't be stupid tourists like us - ask what it'll cost before you go. I think we were had.

So we arrive at the Comic Strip Live, which has had every legendary comic perform within it's walls, and often has them do spontaneous sets for trial runs. We were in for a night to start off a week-long comedy festival in New York, so we had about a dozen comics perform for us.

We were seated at the table right at the front, lucky for us, so we were set to be seriously picked on. Even luckier for us, we're sensibly boring and uncontroversial, so they only got so far with us before moving on. The place is small enough for everyone to be fair game anyway.

The show was broken into two halves. First came the tried and tested comics that got us roaring with laughter for over an hour. Truly funny. After a short break, it all unraveled. It was the rookies turn. It quickly went from just not very funny to acutely awkward and uncomfortable. You felt like you had to offer up a little chuckle now and then for both the performer's sake and to alleviate some of the guilt you felt for being part of this person's utter failure. The first set was less than ten minutes, but as each one followed they got shorter and shorter. Some of them gave up after about three minutes. It must take huge guts to do what they do, because it's a fine line between funny and terrible.

We left the moment we could, jumped into the aforementioned cab back to the hotel, and rested our peepers for another massive day in New York City.