A couple of days ago I boarded the downtown 4 express train, headed for Union Square. As the doors closed and the train began to move, I found myself a seat, and began to fumble with my iPod. Before finding the song I was looking for (Coldplay's Viva La Vida...for those of you that are REALLY into details) I happened to glance across the subway car to the seats across from me...and saw one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on.

Her hair was long and the darkest of browns, almost black...dyed slightly lighter at the tips and pulled into a single large braid behind her. Her skin was light, internationally mixed and absolutely flawless, the kind of color you get when you pour a little too much fresh milk into your morning coffee. Her eyebrows were dark and thin, her face classic, the only modern touch was a single tiny golden stud in her left nostril. She wore a sleek and perfectly fitting top and a simple skirt, which in my opinion happened to be exactly the length and style that a perfect lady would wear. Her long, full legs were in a pair of black heels that you just wanted to buy ten more pairs of in ten different colors for her JUST because she looked so doggone good in them.

Her big brown eyes acknowledged my presence with a quick blink before looking away just in time to avoid that "uncomfortably long stare". She reached down into her shoulder bag and pulled out a book that I had never heard of...$40 MILLION DOLLAR SLAVES. This enhancesd the attraction, as her reading such a book denoted character and intelligence. How do I know..? Because I was reading the comics section of the Daily News...

As she found her place and began to read, I found myself daydreaming about what I would say to her should the opportunity arise for conversation. I could have just admired her beauty in awe and silence without interrupting her. But what would be the point of that? Even Outkast once said "Everybody knows you can't let a pretty one pass you by...without saying hi." For those of you that have no clue who Outkast is, how about a different analogy, "If you saw a flawless diamond within your grasp somewhere...wouldn't YOU try to pick it up?"

...but I digress...where was I..?

Oh yeah...

The point is, how does one start a conversation with a woman who has probably already shot down ten other men better than you...and just in the last hour?? What perfectly original, sincerely smooth, ear opening comment do you make to such a woman..?

"Hello there young lady, I see you're reading my favorite book ever...$40 Million Dollar Slaves."

No...that's not it...

"Hey girl, I noticed you sitting over there, looking all good, reading $40 Million Dollar Slaves."

Nope...definitely not gonna work.

"Excuse me miss. I seem to have lost my copy of $40 Million Dollar Slaves, and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?"

Geesh...friggin shoot me.

What does a guy say?? How do I speak to her? How do I tell her that she's absolutely stunning, and even though I don't know her in any way, shape or form, I feel that my day might be a little more grey if I don't continue to look in her direction? How do I explain to her, that if she's at all as interesting, or as funny, or as cool, or as understanding as I THINK she might be, than she should let me take her out, and wine and dine her, and meet her parents, and prove my love, and propose, and grow old with her until we both die happily like those two fools in The Notebook...???

How do I tell her...

"Um...hi..."

I look up...she's standing above me, $40 Million Dollar Slaves in her hand.

"I'm sorry," I say, pretending to turn down my iPod to buy some time, "What were you saying..?"

She blinks her baby browns at me again. "I was just saying hi."

"Hi," I mumble, shyly.

She sits next to me, and reaches into her purse again.

"I feel like a total idiot," she continued, "but I just saw you looking at me earlier, and I thought you might introduce yourself, but you didn't."

She blushes a little.

"Well, the thing is you're really cute and I don't really know anyone in New York, and the subway's a short ride so I never know how to start a conversation with anyone..."

She pulls a business card from her purse.

"...and anyway, if you'd like to...I don't know, get coffee or something, my number's on the card."

Before I can part my lips to speak, the train stops, she smiles again, and leaves.

I don't say anything. I don't do anything.

I simply put the card in my jacket pocket, go back to fumbling with my iPod, and start laughing outloud like some kind of crazed lunatic.

- F

As most of you know,

My daughter Jaida and her mother came to visit me in New York last week (thanks Christina!). Needless to say, while they were here, we had our fun and games in the Big Apple like we always do.

I had the opportunity to take Christina out on the town (thanks Virginia!), and during the day, we took Jaida to Toys R Us here, Chuckee Cheese’s there (thanks Tiff!), and somewhere in between, the biggest McDonald’s they’ve ever seen...

...but one day, in the midst of all this random entertainment, on the L train bound for Bedford Street, my 6 year old spit forth the question of all questions:

"Daddy, why don’t you and Mommy get married?"

"Why don’t we get married..?" I asked, trying to delay the inevitable response I’d have to give.

"Yeah. My friend Bobby (or Brandon? Billy?) said that his mommy and daddy aren’t married, and he hates having a stepdad."

Then her face scrunched, a dead giveaway that she had gone into problem solving mode.

"So you and Mommy should get married and then she won’t have to marry someone else and then I won’t have to get a stepdaddy and then you can be my daddy for real and we can live together and be a family..."

There it was...her master plan.

So simple.

So easily and non dramatically had the answer come from her lips that I felt like an absolute idiot for not having ever married her mother...for not living with them...for not being a family.

Behold my friends, the pure beauty of being a child.

That’s what seems the easiest to them, so that’s how things should be.

Because it’s right.

Because in their world, there is no rhyme or reason, no political advantage or agenda, no regrets from poor choices, no repercussions to non marital sex, no death due to miscalculations, no bankruptcy due to a crashing market that most of us know absolutely NOTHING about...

There is no try. There is only do, or do not. (Thanks Yoda!)

That’s why it hurt so much to say what I had to say next. Not because I had to say it, but because it was the truth.

"Well Jaida..." I paused as I fumbled for 6 year old terminology.

"Your mommy and I aren’t married because we are not in love with each other. We are very good friends and we both love YOU very much."

Then I gave HER the scrunched up face.

"Maybe one day your mommy will marry someone else, and maybe one day I will too, but the important thing you have to remember is that I’ll ALWAYS be your daddy, and she’ll ALWAYS be your mommy, and we’ll always be friends no matter what else happens...because YOU connect us."

Ah...a light at the end of the child-outta-wedlock tunnel.

"I do..?" she asked.

"Yes baby, you do." I confirmed.

"You’re the glue between us. We’ll always be a family even if we’re not together."

"I’m the glue?", she restated, amazed at this sudden turn of events.

Not a wrench thrown into her master plan, but a mere adjustment to it.

"That’s SWEET daddy."

Yes baby.

Sweet indeed.

- F

I made this list for a friend of mine who wanted to know what to do while in NY. After I wrote it, I figured a few others might wanna know as well.

Thus the blog.

Enjoy.

______________________________________________________________

THINGS TO DO IN NEW YORK...IN NO ORDER WHATSOEVER.

* TIMES SQUARE. Yeah, yeah, yeah. For a New Yorker, it's the plague. But for tourists, it's Val Halla. Stare away kiddies. They've got everything from the M&M store to Broadway shows. However, standing outside 8 hours in the freezing cold on New Years night just to see a ball drop for 10 seconds is just plain ludacrous (tourist or not).

* Get a Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich from AMERICANA DELI on 101st & Broadway. They're huge, they're greasy, but the guys working there hardly speak English, so thank God it's an easy thing to translate. "P H I L L Y, C H E E S E S T E A K, S A N D W I C H . . . "
 
* Visit CENTRAL PARK. It's just downright amazing. It's a park as big as a small town. And unless you were born and raised in the Outback, or that area full of fields in between Kansas and Colorado, you'll really be blown away by seemingly never ending expanse of good, green, earth. BONUS: Stand in the middle of Sheep's Meadow. Having your feet on Mother Nature and being surrounded by a concrete jungle at the same time...remarkable.

* Ride in a cab at least once. Don't do it TOO often, or you'll lose all your spending money before you even get to the place you're supposed to spend it! BONUS: Roller coasters have NOTHING on a pissed off foreigner speaking a language you've never heard of dodging traffic at 50 miles an hour as if the NYPD was on his tail!

* Try the corn (amongst other things) at CAFE HABANA, near Little Italy on Prince & Elizabeth. I can't really explain it to you, but you've never had anything like it, guaranteed. BONUS: You could eat 6 ears of it and it wouldn't break your bank.

* ROCKEFELLER CENTER. It's cheesy, but there's something about standing in line for an hour to ice skate for 5 minutes that warms your heart. Not to mention it's near Radio City Music Hall and NBC and all that other hulabaloo that tourists love to check out. BONUS: That big-ass Christmas tree really IS friggin cool to look at!

* Stay out til 4am! It's one of the few cities in America where the nightlife doesn't even THINK about slowing down until 4am, and there are tons of things to get into even after THAT! Sure it'll throw off your schedule and probably cost you a hangover, but as we all know "Sometimes it feels SO good to be SO bad..."

* Take a picture with one or two of our NYPD or FDNY. BONUS: They are a special breed of humans giving life and limb for mere pennies on the dollar, just so we can feel a little less f**ked by the evil in our country. Taking a picture with them is (honestly) an awesome way to make em feel appreciated...trust me. DOWNER: Rub em the wrong way, and you'll get shot 50 times (or if it's the FDNY, you'll get axed)..

* Curse someone out. Nothing makes you feel like a true New Yorker like picking some random person on some random street corner doing something random...and asking them what the f**k they're looking at. They won't know what the hell you're talking about, but they'll kindly return the greeting with a "What the f**k did you just say??" or the ever popular "F**k you, you f**king f**k". DOWNER: Be cautious, picking the wrong random person will get you shot 50 times.

* Head down to Battery Park to check out the STATUE OF LIBERTY. Now, you don't actually want to wait in line 3 hours for that stupid ass boat (which will probably make you vomit from being seasick) to take you to it (where you'll discover it's really NOT that big) where you'll have to wait another 3 hours just to walk up it. You can see it just fine from the Manhattan side, and with the zoom on today's digital cameras, you'll even get a decent photo. Then lie and tell your friends it was fantastic, and they'll grin and lie back about how they've already seen it. BONUS: In reality...THEY haven't been inside of  it either.

* For no apparent reason whatsoever, scream out "I LOVE NEW YORK!" Seriously. (Do it first now in the comfort of your own home to make sure you don't sound like a total wuss when you scream). No one will care, no one will even look at you twice.BONUS: Someone might even reply "Why thank you. New York loves you too..."

* The EMPIRE STATE BUILDING. Walk to 34th and 5th avenue. Stand under it, say something mundane like "Damn that's a tall building!", then walk away and do something else. They'll charge you $35 to go to the top, and there's nothing waiting for you there but a view you already knew you were gonna see anyway, and another line taking an hour just to get back down. Better idea, take the $35 (multiplied by the 5 members of your family, that's $175) and go blow it on an IMAX film and an awesome NY dinner for you and the kids! BONUS: The best place to do this on a $175 budget is the Italian style restaurant, CARMINE'S (either the one in Times Square or the one uptown. The food's fantastic, and served family style. This means every plate is big enough for 3-4 people...so dig in!

* Find a random bar on ANY street you come across in NY, walk in, sit at the bar, ask for two shots apiece (for you and however many folks you're with), pay for them (tip 20%!!), then thank the bartender, and walk out. This will give you the giggly energy (and temporary warmth) to handle walking another 20 NY blocks to go see the next sight...

- Fidel

So, I went and friggin did it.

I finally dug deep down in my pockets, pulled out every penny, and am now the proud owner of an X-Box 360.

I imagine my time (at least for the next month) will go something like this:

70% = X-Box
25% = Working
3%   = Sleeping
2%   = Miscellaneous

(Of course, the miscellaneous includes, eating, drinking, smoking, masturbating, arguing with Sprint about my friggin bill, daydreams about Jessica Biel, chatting with God, forgetting to call my friends, and all those unpleasant visits to the toilet bowl)

But I digress.

The point is, I just bought an X-Box 360.

Don't bother calling me, I'll be killing Mexican terrorists in Las Vegas with my M-60.

So apparently wearing a suit and tie to work every day makes you more appealing to the opposite sex...women have been hitting on me left and right, literally stopping me in the street...

...and I guess salary and keys to the building don't hurt.

The problem is, none of them are the types that I usually pursue, but I guess that I should be thankful. Even though all of you out there that know me at all (and believe me, that's most of you) know that generally I stay away from hot chicks and their crooked ways.

Why, you ask?

Because I believe there should be balance brought to the universe, for all of those little, skinny, ugly, nerdy, non wealthy, non educated, hard working, loser men of the world.

I love you guys, I really do...because I used to be you.

But like I said, I should be thankful...so thank you.

Thank you new job.

Thank you for being everything the world wants from me even though I'm new to all this and should be expecting the fruits of my hard work to pay off I'm still spooked and I'm not really that guy that you all think I am ladies just because I got a friggin suit on doesn't necessarily mean I'm interested in you and your fake-ass girlfriends and their fake-ass Manolo's and their fake-ass white guy rich guy stupid ass guy boyfriends buying everything for them when they won't lift a finger to do it themselves because they expect the world to be right, and white, for as long as they all shall live even though now I seem to have somehow stepped into their little bubble and ruined it all beyond recognition...

...be warned corporate world bitches...

Fidel Amos will not conform.

Can you dig it..?

Yesterday, my mind was blown.

I found myself enjoying the regular, run of the mill, average, old, everyday grind...when out of nowhere, my wallet arrived in the mail.

Now it wasn't the fact that my wallet was actually in the mail and not on my physical person that surprised the hell out of me.

You see, because last week (I believe it was thursday) I stupidly left my wallet inside of a taxi cab after paying for my ride (and tipping nicely if I do say so myself). Leaving one's wallet inside of a taxi cab in this big bad apple we all call New York City is nothing new. I mean hell, I must have lost 3 wallets, $100's of dollars, 4 cellphones, and a miniature pincher inside of various taxicabs in the six years that I've been living here.

But THIS time was different...

THIS time I had just received my spankin new NY license a week ago.

THIS time the wallet was 2 days old, a small Perry Ellis perk left over in a VIP giftbag after one of the insanely expensive events hosted at my new job.

THIS time I was having a bad day, week, month...whatever period of time you wanna say it was, I was pretty pissed off.

So I cursed New York City.

That's right my friends.

I f**king cursed this f**king piece of s**t city that keeps f**king kicking the f**king s**t out of me every f**king day when all I f**king wanna f**king do is just f**king LIVE my damn life in peace and f**king loneliness without getting the f**king piss stomped out of me every time I f**king turn the f**king corner...

...but I digress.

The point is I was mad at New York, and I couldn't understand why after six years of ups and downs, after six years of trying and trying and trying and trying, after six years of standing up for her...she was letting me down again.

I thought to myself "No one is going to return my Perry Ellis wallet. No one is going to give a damn that it contained my money, cards, contacts, and brand spanking new NY id. No one."

So I got over it.

I accepted it.

I took it all with a grain of salt.

I chalked it up to experience.

Whatever the hell you call it, I gave up.

And then it happened.

I checked the mail. I opened the letter that someone had ACTUALLY paid $1.06 at the post office to mail to me. I carefully checked the contents inside the wallet. I noticed that EVERY SINGLE THING was there. I smiled. I almost cried. I giggled like a little red headed schoolgirl on her first day.

The good news is they used the current address on my new NY id to mail it to, the bad news is they put no return address...so I'll never be able to write them back and thank them. I just have to thank them internally and keep on keepin on.

I love you beautiful stranger.

I love the fact that you went that extra mile when no one else would.

I love that you're faceless, nameless, gender-less, race-less, but in all those seperate ways more human than most.

Thank you my friend.

And thank YOU New York.

- Fidel

Hey gang, my name's Fidel...

"Hi Fidel..."

...um...hi. I'm looking to rent a room, or share a place with a roommate. But no, it won't be terribly dreadful to get through, and there won't even be any hidden surprises. In fact, I'm going to make this REALLY easy for you.

Here goes...

I had a very eventful day today. I got up. Took a shower. Walked out of the bathroom and into my room...and found my roommate stealing from me.

So needless to say, I'll be finding a new place to hang my hat. For those of you not hip to the hip talk, that means I need to find an apartment. I'll be giving notice to my landlord in the morning, and moving out of where I'm at by September first. (Because doggone it, I believe a man should have the right to not be robbed in his own domecile by golly!) I currently live in Queens. But I don't mind bouncing out of here if I have to...it let's me try a new juicy bite from this big, shiny Apple.

In fact, in the six years that I've lived in this city, I've proudly been a resident of:

Harlem
Flatbush
Bed-Stuy
Upper East Side
Spanish Harlem
Murray Hill
& Woodside

So needless to say as long as the rent is right, the neighborhood doesn't matter. I know that's 7 neighborhoods in 6 years, but when I first got here a few were 6-month leases, so there you go. I found better rent elsewhere.

Speaking of rent, I guess I better throw out a range...well, where I'm at now I pay $600 a month...

(For those of you not from New York, please allow the New Yorkers a brief pause here to laugh...)

I know it's damn near impossible, but I've been around this range for almost six years now. (Well, except for that 6 month stint where I thought I was James Friggin Bond, paying $1200 a month in the Upper East Side...but that's another story...)

So $600's my max, and of course, anything under is fine as well..! I know that really limits my choices, but I've gotten by so far, and a budget's gotta do what a budget's gotta do!

The usual terms of agreement should apply, one month's rent and one month's deposit down, anything less is simply uncivilized. I can sign a lease if I need to. I mean, as long as it's not TOO friggin long! Oh, and I'm not too crazy about credit checks and real estate %'s, because that usually means that I'm getting myself into something that I KNOW I'm gonna regret.
___________________________________________________________

Now that all the Terms Of Liability are outta the way, a little bit about myself:

For those of you into Myspace, go here: MYSPACE.COM/FIDELAMOS.

For those of you who wouldn't be caught DEAD on Myspace, please read below...

My name's Fidel Amos. Moved NY Dec 31st, 2001 (Yes, New Year's Eve), turned 30 this year. I'm 6'7" (Yes, 6'7"), 225lbs, blah, blah, blah. I'm biracial, father's African American from Alabama, mom's Italian from Verona, Italy. (Yes, I speak Italian fluently, and yes, I'll teach you for free if you like, but no, I won't do your Italian homework.)

I grew up mostly in Italy, but have lived in Korea (where I was born) and also Germany. Why, you ask? My father was in the Army, met my mother in Italy, and that's where this happy little story started. Later the Army moved us to Kansas (yes, Kansas), where I went to college. (No, I didn't graduate. Why? Because I'm interesting...and it turned out, I actually WAS too cool for school..!) After getting bored to death by every professor and their grandmother, I decided to move to NY, and try my hand at the acting thing.

Did that, and still do when I can manage to snatch auditions, but along the way found out that I make a pretty good nightclub promoter and event coordinator, so I do that as well. (You should be remembering this when you're ready to ask me where my income's going to be coming from) Oh, and yes, I can get you into nightclubs, and yes, I will take you with me when I go out, and no, I really DON'T mind. It's a monster perk, I might as well share it.
___________________________________________________________

There, the Mini Bio's done, we're moving on to the Nitty Gritty / Stuff You Really Care About section of this post. (See, I told you I would make this really easy.)

THINGS I DO ALL THE TIME:

A) Respect my surroundings (& yours even more so), all the time, 100% of the time.
B) Pay my rent.
C) Chip in on bills.
D) Give you my opinion on whether or not that outfit actually DOES make your ass look fat.
E) Clean up after myself (& probably you too)
F) Buy my own groceries and cook my own food (& yes, if you'd like some, you may have some).
G) Throw your thong back in your room if I find it "mysteriously" hanging from the refrigerator door.
H)Take out the trash and recycle.
I) Ask before I take, and replenish what I finish.
J) Take care of my friends, family and loved ones to the very drop.
K) Listen to your side of the argument (Ah, ah, I said listen, not agree).
L) Leave your stuff alone.
M) Let you play my Xbox (That's what the 2nd controller's for)
N) Make sure you get your mail & messages.

THINGS I NEVER DO:

A) Come home loud as all hell as if I'm the only one who lives there.
B) Eat your entire gallon of Cherry Garcia because you said I could have a little bit.
C) Wash every single one of my dishes and then leave your glass, plate, and fork from dinner on the counter.
D) Use the last roll of toilet paper and then leave a stack of paper towels or left over Taco Bell napkins in its place.
E) Hog your television (I have my own)
F) Hog your computer (I have my own)
G) Hog your porn (I plead the 5th)
H) Knock your race or religion or that of your friends.
I) Leave my s**t all over the place because it won't fit in my room.
J) Leave the seat up.

THINGS I DON'T MIND (PLUS SOME STUFF I DO MYSELF ON OCCASION):

A) Bring home "Who the f**k ever". (Just as long as "Who the f**k ever" doesn't stick around afterward and annoy the hell out of me all day while you're at work)
B) Pet cats, fish, dogs, hamsters and guinea pigs. (But ferrets freak me the f**k out)
C) People who talk, giggle, think or smile to themselves.
D) People who play with themselves. (But THAT, you gotta do in your room)
E) The rolling, smoking and enjoying of marijuana. (But if you're growin it serious weight in the yard, I kinda can't be a part of that, sorry)
F) The buying, chilling and drinking of alcohol and beer.
G) You walking around half naked in this NY heat (because chances are, I probably will)
H) Cigarettes (unless ashtray's start stackin up with butts, I HATE that)
I) Your mom coming to visit for a week.
J) Your dad coming to visit for a week.
K) You complaining to me about your day. No, I probably won't care (unless you turn out to be a really NIFTY roommate) but yes, I definitely will make you FEEL like I do.

THINGS I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT TOLERATE (aka: DEAL BREAKERS)

A) Theft, dishonesty, backstabbing of any kind. (What you do in your own little world isn't my business, but an apt shared is OUR apt, and I won't be treated like that...keep that s**t out on the street)
B) Non house-trained pets that do their doo all over.
C) Racism in any form.
D) You cutting your nails anywhere near me. That's gross.
E) Your dirty clothes in my dirty clothes. That's gross too. (Unless you're Angelina Jolie, Scarlet Johannsen, or Keira Knightly)
F) You using my toothbrush. That's SO gross I can't even believe I have to write it down (Shame on you people)
G) Cockroaches. Mice I've dealt with, a**holes I've tolerated, but one roach comes near me, and all hell will break loose for it and every other roach it knows...I promise you.

MY WISH LIST (aka: BONUS!)

A) You're female.

Yes, I'm sure most guys say that, but damnit I genuinely mean it. Let's face it, males just suck as roommates. Their 90% hassle, and 10% "what the f**k just happened??". So what am I, gay? No, I'm european, there's a difference. I'm allowed to ACT gay when I feel like it (dress nice, smell nice, talk nice), while at the same time, being mysteriously manly (you know, like unbuttoning my top button sometimes!) Also I've found that women usually don't have a problem with me getting high, putting Elastica, Lily Allen or Lisa Loeb on, cooking a 3 course meal, and then cleaning up after myself. That, and I've learned over the years that I click SO much better than I do with knuckleheaded neanderthals. Be forewarned however, I DON'T like watching Oprah, I DON'T know how a home pregnancy works, and I DON'T know how to braid your hair. But I DO love romantic comedies, I DO keep the fridge stocked with Haagen Daas, I DO enjoy great conversation, and I have absolutely NO objection to doing all three at least once a week.

B) Your place is already furnished.

I travel light. Just my bedroom set, some entertainment stuff and clothes galore. If you want to jump into a place, and furnish it from start, we can do that too.

C) You live near an express train.

No, deep down inside it doesn't matte, but life IS full of the occasional little joys, isn't it?
___________________________________________________________

Well, that's that, that's me, and that's it. If you've made it this far, the only two things you'll need next are right here:

Cell: (917) 547-8313
Email: FIDELAMOS@YAHOO.COM

I'm looking forward to hearing from you...well...not ALL of you, but I'm sure most.

- Fidel

PS. I'm sorry this thing is so long, but who knows, maybe I'll post it as a blog or something...