It was raining when we checked into our midtown hotel (near 47th and B’Way) but it was great to be back in the big apple again. Driving up Broadway, seeing lines of people waiting in the rain to see shows, it always makes me feel good.

After we were checked in, I went along with the entire ensemble to Virgil’s for BBQ Ribs, which, by the way, were EXCELLENT. Virgil’s is on 44th street, west of B’Way, so it was only a short walk in the rain.

After that, I went back to the hotel but the swedes got umbrellas and went to check the city out, as it was now about 8pm. I watched a bit of the horribly officiated NETS/SPURS game and then walked across the street to O’Donnollon’s for pints. Got a text Msg. from Rusty that him, both Daves and Pete were going to John’s Pizza (on 48th st.) for dinner. I turned the channel and watched a terrible episode of larry King (is this an idiot or what?) and then took a little nap (at 9pm…a nap…i know…sounds odd…) woke up around 11pm and watched CNN talk about Martha Stewart and it was kinda funny to hear the spin doctoring in it’s infancy. At about 11:30 I went down to the lobby to see if it was still raining. Now, even though it was raining it wasn’t even cold outside. So I was wearing shorts!

A few minutes later, Rusty, Dave and Daddyo walked in and they had a bag of something to drink and went up to Rusty’s room. My cell phone went of and it was Pete, who was across the street having a pint at O’Donnollons. So I met up with Pete for a pint of Stella Artois.

But there was a very drunk guy next to me. He kept looking at me and finally said, “You look like a very pretty woman. You’re a good-looking woman.” He then looks at Pete and says,”You got a good gal here.” At this point, Pete and I are annoyed. So I rudely ask the guy not to say anything to us. He then lifts my beer up and sets it down. At that point I give him the final warning; get away from us, now. Don’t talk to us and don’t touch me. I prefer not to fight but this guy was leaving me with few options. I asked the bartender to come over. “This guy is drunk and acting like an A-hole. Please tell him to chill out…the guy touched me and my beer and called me a woman.” So the bartender does his “OK Eddie, leave these guys alone” tap dance and Eddie goes away. But, 10 minutes later he’s at it again with some other patrons. At that point, the bartender (who was from Dublin, by the way) grabbed Eddie and tossed him onto 46th street.

The bartender and I started talking about Dublin; I told him I had been there twice in the last year. He asked why and I said to play concerts. He asked if I were a DJ (Pete got a good chuckle out of it) and I was SOOOOOOOOOOO tempted to say yes. But alas, I told him I was in a group called LOVE. He said it was cool name. I told him thanks for tossing Eddie out. He then flowed Pete and I another round. Got back to my room around 2am and immediately hit the pillows. Woke up the next morning at 12:38pm and wrote this diary.

Mike Randle