HOW WE CRASHED THE 2006 ART EXPO
8-14-06 POST RATED: Art Expo, Jacob Javitz Center, Tracy, Cojo, Britto, Marco
I only heard about the big Art Expo at the Jacob Javitz Center a week before it was set to kick off. The next week was full of scrambling and a series of unfortunate events resulted in my girlfriend TRACY and I showing up at the expo (without a display table or fine art postcards) but a few thousand Illustration Postcards to hand out to fine art collectors.
IT felt like showing up for a black tie event in clown shoes. Somehow with a lot of good timing on the days of the actual event, and some bullshit posturing we were able to hand out all of the postcards for only the price of admission. Tracy did all the work on the days of the event so I'll let her tell the story- . . .thanks Love!
-Cojo
Day 1
By Tracy
"In Philadelphia it's difficult to always find a parking spot near the action, but I'm usually successful if I resort to seeking a spot four or so blocks away. I was rudely awakened to driving or having a car in New York City. We searched for a parking spot within ten blocks of the expo for at least forty-five minutes, but it was to no avail. The expo started at 10:00 am and around 11:00 we decided our only way out was to find a parking spot anywhere and take a taxi to the awaited event. 
After the taxi dropped us off, we ventured off into the crowd and entered the Javitz Center, both of us holding our breath and hoping we weren't going to be kicked out, for Cojo found out about the event just days before and thus missed the deadline for paying big bucks to have his own booth to display his original artwork.
As soon as I entered the Center my eyes were immediately drawn to the towering glass ceilings that so reminded me of Heathrow Airport in London. My eyes then focused ahead of me and took in how vast and huge this place was, and saw that most people were heading towards a large room in which artwork was displayed in cubicle-like settings. At the entry of the room stood a dumpy, middle aged woman handing out postcards of some sort, and I noticed she was the only one doing so. Since that was our game-plan, I asked her if she was given any trouble and when she said no we immediately opened up shop.
Cojo was as handsome as ever, dressed in a dark gray business suit, and he manned the postcards while I took over handing out his illustration-esq postcards. Trial and error proved that I was the more approachable one and it looked totally legit when Cojo was always there to fill my empty hands with more postcards. The funny thing is that I HATE when people try to hand me anything, whether it be a postcard, invite, or perfume sample. My automatic response is always "no thanks," and suddenly I found myself thrust into my enemy's position! I knew I was annoying and made people uncomfortable, but I kept on truckin' because I was advertising the art created by my love, and he counts much, much more than anonymous faces at an art exhibit, even if it was the biggest exhibit of the year.
Before the event Cojo and I had decided my apparel would be both professional and sexy, and I decided to wear a black blazer with a black miniskirt and knee-high boots. I guess my outfit was a success because person after person approached me to ask me questions about locations of the bathroom and various art exhibits. After the third person approached me with questions, we realized that the suit made people think I worked for the Javitz Center, which totally worked to our advantage.
On the first day of the expo not one person gave us a problem and only one man, an exhibiting artist, asked if I was handing out postcards to advertise an exhibiting artist (which I was not) and whether anyone had given us a problem. Almost every person who entered or left the main room of the expo had come into contact with me and was holding two of Cojo's postcards, whilst every other artist had to pay thousands of dollars just to display their artwork! 
Our geniusness of crashing the Art Expo had rubbed off on a couple people, and later that day I had two modes of competition. Two or so hours into the event, a skinny, pale, woman (dressed and had makeup that reminded me of a Goth) stepped in on my territory and began handing out small postcards, advertising her friend’Äôs artwork that was in the expo. Sure I got a bit ornery when visitors were taking her postcards instead of mine, but I noticed that she liked to make conversation with her "clients." Thus, I took a shrewd move and whenever anyone approached me with a location-related question, I pointed them over to her direction and said "she knows this place much better than I do."
Person after person began approaching her and talking to her for over a minute, while I was free to hand out twenty or so postcards with no struggle. This girl left after an hour of handing out her friend’Äôs small postcards, and her absence contented me because one girl handing out postcards is not a big deal, but someone was sure to notice if the entrance became filled with people bombarding the visitors who had paid $20 to see the artwork.
To my dissatisfaction, though, two heavy-set, unattractive men set up shop in the other corner. Not only were they trying to hand out postcards, but they were actually displaying huge paintings by an artist enrolled in the Expo! I was relieved to find no one wanted to approach these scary men, but I was offended by the awfulness of the art they were trying to sell! I kid you not’Äîthe four dogs playing poker. Cojo and I thought someone would give them a problem for sure, but not one person questioned their actions, and they sat there with the painting resting on the ground for a couple hours.
On the first day of the Expo I must have handed out at least 1000 postcards, and when 6:00 rolled around I realized I hadn't sat down, ate, drank, or even urinated, and all I could think about was how my feet were aching from the heels and my growling, empty stomach. Earlier that day we decided we would go to the STAGE DELI for dinner after the Expo and all day I had been looking forward to the most delicious corned beef sandwich in the world.
Little did I know we had a whole other escapade in front of us, and with something as simple as a New York City taxi.
As we exited the Javitz Center, Cojo and I immediately noticed a huge line of limousines, but not one taxicab in site! Seconds later we heard people chattering about how all taxis had off for dinner hour at 6, but that just didn't make sense to me. The limo drivers were shouting offers for their services, and Cojo and I were bombarded because we were both well-dressed. There was no way we were going to take a limo to the Stage Deli, and it especially pissed me off when the limo drivers pounced on Cojo saying things like "your beautiful lady will love you forever if you treat her to a limo." I turned and said "no thanks" myself and when they asked me my price I would say "5 cents!" and then enjoyed watching them snort and turn away.
In the distance we saw taxis driving, so we decided to walk a couple blocks and then hail a cab. My feet were aching so much I hobbled, but my slowness proved beneficial. We were walking on a sidewalk with a wall running alongside it, and we saw an amazing site: dozens of pigeons sitting next to each other on the top surface of the wall. Cojo wanted to stop and take a picture, and I was more than happy to rest my feet for a few seconds. I was sure that at least one of the pigeons was going to crap on one of us, but to my surprise they sat on the wall, almost posing for the picture.
Finally we were able to get a cab, and to our luck we ended up with the one cabbie who had no idea how to get around Times Square (near the Deli). After turning around 3 times, we were so fed up that we demanded to get out, which meant that I had even more painful walking to do. Six blocks later, I saw a most wonderful site: the Deli. To my surprise, Cojo had never eaten here, and I was excited to be able to introduce him to a famous NY spot, and it figures that it was one that serves the best Jewish food. You name the celebrity, and there's almost sure to be a picture of them eating at the Stage, and may very well even have a sandwich named after them.
After our tummies were satisfied, we decided to take a cab to THE NEW YORKER HOTEL (where we had a reservation) instead of getting my car and having to find another parking spot. Although I was almost falling asleep in the cab, I felt a spark of energy when I walked into the hotel and saw how beautiful it was. My stomach dropped, though, when the receptionist told us our room was not available. A second later, my heart stopped again, but this time because we were going to be given an upgraded suite for no extra cost! The bellboy took us up to our 24th floor suite, and it was amazing. The door opened up into a living room, adorn with huge windows, a couch, a reclining chair, coffee tables, a huge television, and a dining table with chairs. The real site, though, was right out the center window: a glowing Empire State Building. The bellboy gave us the rest of the tour; the kitchen, two bathrooms, and a through another door into a huge bedroom, also with a couch and a huge TV.
As soon as the bellboy left, I popped my boots off sat on the chair to take in the view. Then I jumped up when Cojo told me he could see a naked girl showering in the building across the way. Not two yards in front of me was just what he said, and I was captivated because I couldn’Äôt believe a woman would shower with the window wide open when a hotel stands so close. After a shocked minute or so, I pulled down the curtains. Cojo laid down on the couch and a second later he was fast asleep.
For some reason, I had gotten my second wind and did not go to sleep for another couple of hours. Cojo moved to the bed and I squished myself on the windowsill to look down to the streets and imagine what it will be like to live there, for real, in a couple years. The hotel is across the street from Madison Square Garden, and I enjoyed hearing cheers from the Billy Joel Concert and the bustle on the streets below. Even at 2:00 am the streets were filled with people, awake, cold, excited, with the energy one can only experience in New York City. The energy is unexplainable, and it has always motivated me and made me strive to be successful so I could have an exciting, luxurious life in the City. After watching the G-d awful ’ÄúThe Ring Two’Äù on HBO, I headed into the bedroom to catch some Z’Äôs.
Day 2
The next morning came too soon, and when I awoke I realized Cojo was up already. Even though I was still tired, I was excited to get up and see the daytime view out the enormous windows. As I walked into the living room, Cojo was sipping coffee and putting more postcard packages together. When he saw I was up he gave me a big hug and kiss and we then ventured up to the 40th floor for breakfast. The restaurant area was amazing, for it had floor to ceiling windows all around the room, and one can even see the Statute of Liberty in the distance. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a bagel to bring back down to the suite with me, but instead of eating I snatched up the digital camera I got Cojo for his birthday/Christmas and ran back up to the 40th floor to take some quick shots.
Until 10:30 am, Cojo and I sat in the living room putting together more postcard packages and watching various local news channels that were featuring stories about the Art Expo. After packing up the remaining postcards, we showered and got ready for another day at the Javitz Center. We both knew the second day was going to be easier, though, because I had already distributed a majority of the cards.
We checked out, took a taxi to the Expo, and walked in to resume our same positions. To my surprise, the middle-aged woman handing out postcards was there again. A few minutes after I also began distributing, a man employed by the Javitz Center approached this woman and told her she could not hand out postcards because it wasn't fair to the other artists in the expo. The woman walked away and Cojo and I had to rethink our strategy. A couple minutes later we noticed the employee was nowhere in site, so I began handing out postcards again.
No one gave me trouble for the rest of the morning. A few minutes after I got back into my groove, the same Goth girl returned, but this time she was dressed in a Kimono-looking dress, white makeup, and bright red lipstick. I soon overheard her tell a visitor that she was a geisha for the day and I tried my best not to burst out laughing.
To my amazement, we ran out of postcards just two hours into the second day of the Expo, and I was relieved and excited to be able to relax and walk around to look at the artwork, for this time I knew to bring comfortable shoes to change into.
After we got some sodas and began walking booth to booth. It was funny because people passing by looked at me as if they recognized me from somewhere; not being able to place my face.
A while later, we passed by a booth manned by a flamboyant artist, Marco, and I soon realized he had been the sole person to ask me about handing out postcards the previous day. He immediately recognized me as the girl who was passing out postcards, and he began going nuts over the fact that I had done so. He shushed all his peons and announced to them that I had been on my feet the past two days handing out postcards, as if the task was of utter importance.
It was hilarious and strange at the same time, especially after Cojo told me Marco was the artist he had once told me a funny story about. After I snapped a picture of Cojo and Marco, we began walking again and soon turned a corner to find a huge Britto exhibit. At least 6 cubicles were covered with his bright colorful works, and there even sat a VW Bug with his artwork all over it. Cojo knew Britto somehow and they had a brief chat.
After I took a picture of Cojo and Britto (Read about it in Cojo's words- COJO MEETS BRITTO), we finished walking around the Javitz Center and decided to leave around 4 pm. 
We took a taxi back to my car and then drove to the part of town in which Cojo's favorite Thai restaurant was located. We were both exhausted from the past two days, and it was nice to relax in the dim restaurant, sip delicious Thai iced teas, and eat the best Thai food ever. An hour or so later we headed for home, both of us feeling a sense of accomplishment even though the fine art postcards fell through and we only had commercial illustration ones. We had worked as a team, succeeded in our goal, and all while having a good time.
Helping out someone you love is a most warming feeling, and I'd do it for him again in a heartbeat.
