Just got back from a quick work trip to New York. Our PR agency is out there, so we did a face-to-face meeting to plan the next year.
Though we arrived Tuesday evening and were back on the plane by Thursday evening, my boss and I were still able to fit in a little fun.
We headed to Times Square in hopes of scoring some discount tickets to Book of Mormon: The Musical. No luck. So we tried to take in the touristy sights and sounds without making eye contact with the guys in the creepy Elmo costumes or the girls wearing nothing but body paint.
Then we played some guitars that we could never afford and ate dinner at a restaurant that sold drinks that were even more expensive than the guitars.
After a full day of meetings, the ladies from the PR agency took us to a Yankees game. (It sure was convenient that my boss and I were able to find time in our busy schedules to go to New York on the very day the Yankees were playing the Red Sox. Wink. Wink.)
Taking the subway to the Bronx for a game -- at rush hour -- meant every part of our bodies had the opportunity to touch every part of every other body in the train. Delightful.
But it was the perfect night to watch baseball, to see Derek Jeter in his final season, and to eat an overpriced hot dog.
After another half-day of meetings, it was time to buy some souvenirs for the kids, eat some gelato in Madison Avenue Park, and hail a cab (a first for me) and head back to LaGuardia airport.
It was a nice little getaway, but it was even better get home to my little monsters (and the beautiful wife who has to put up with them).