I woke up the morning of the wedding extremely hung over after the previous night of drinking at the White Horse Tavern. Law school has made me a homebody, so I don't drink much at all and hardly ever have a night on the town. So when I woke up that morning, I was surprised by how terrible I felt. I remember thinking, "Holy crap! This is what a hangover is like! I almost forgot!" Of course, it also may be alcohol taking revenge on me for my long neglect.
In any case, I stumbled around my hotel room in a state of confused, achey dehydration and gathered everything I would need to look presentable that afternoon. I was meeting the groom and some other members of the wedding party in Harlem to get ready for the festivities. This would mostly consist of eating greasy food, drinking beer, and trying to properly tie the gentlemen's bow ties. So I grabbed a bag and headed on my way.
Once I arrived at the apartment in Harlem, I decided to have a cigarette before going inside. As I was standing on the sidewalk people watching, I saw a very disheveled woman under the influence of some narcotic stumbling towards me. (This is the nicest way I can think to say, "I saw a homeless woman on crack.") She was slurring her words and yelling what I could only identify as syllables to no one in particular. After she passed me, she started to empty out a black plastic bag. But it was already empty.
Then she waved around...a shallot. To this day, I still do not understand why that woman had a shallot. Where did she even get a shallot? I often cook with shallots and know that they are expensive little delicacies; they definitely cost more than your average onion. So where on earth did a homeless woman under the influence of crack get a shallot? And why was she waving it around?
And thus ends my story about weird things that happen in Harlem.