Sunday, November 16, 2008

Jersey... Mmm Mmm Good

After a nice drive from Boston down through Rhode Island and Connecticut I spent a lovely rush hour in New York City.  It was a crowded mess of traffic and bridges that I didn't want to end. While traffic is never any fun, I knew full well that once it was over I'd be in New Jersey.  

I hate New Jersey... Hate it so much I'm starting to like it.  
When I'm outside Jersey I hate it, once entering it's even worse... then it grows on you.
Like the night manager of the Camden Taco Bell on the Marlton Pike, this state keeps it real.
Where else can you enjoy the cheapest gas prices in the country and not even have to pump. 

I've got to admit that there are some very nice areas of the state, occupied by some very nice people.  I just happen to be in a line of work that didn't take me to those places.  If I was working in a high class suburb of New York or a coastal town on a beautiful day this entry could have been very different.  
New Jersey is a state that everybody loves to hate.  I've collected a array of pictures from Google image search.  I didn't go and type Jersey Guido, industrial waste or garbage whore, just a simple "New Jersey".  Still with such a fair and balanced keyword I received some photos that cast Jersey in a profoundly negative light.  

Here Miss New Jersey is representing her people in a way typical of the Jersey girls I've seen.
These fine young gents keep the tanning salons and DUI lawyers in business.
Here is a shirt that tries to sum up the New Jersey Transit Authority riders.

My Jersey experience started right off the Jersey Turnpike in North Arlington.  The towns are a mix of industrial wasteland and single family homes.  
I was sure to stop by Pizzaland for a delicious snack treat.  A popular landmark from the Sopranos, this place is sure to take years off your life with the cup of pure grease that hovers on top of the cheese.  After that I left North Jersey for Philadelphia's cheapest hotels located across the river in Cherry Hill, NJ.  That night, in true Jersey fashion, we hit up the clubs.
 What we've got here is a typical nightclub, lots of hair gel and highlights in this crowd.  But one of these doesn't look like the others, and he's rocking the white shirt and black tie.
Dressed like Harvey Keitel and dancing like a molester this guy was unstoppable.  He reminded me of Carl from Aquateen Hunger Force, only gayer.  I guess he's a sort of local celebrity and has been showing up for years.  
His pelvic thrust dance moves, the bar full of bad remixes to average songs and the fact I'd been up for 19 hours had me looking for the door.  Little did I know the night had a good three more hours in store for me.

Below is a picture, I walked across it.  My coworker's friends insisted the walk was a good 15 to 20 minutes.  They were also pissed at our liberal views at the time.  With a dead cell phone and dew covered grass I began the long trek as I raced to beat the sun home.  But they supported a McCain/Palin ticket, so I got the last laugh.

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