We couldn’t get enough of the Big Apple. The Monkmobile suffers a fatal breakdown as she limps into The Naked City for a final tour. Raw from 200,000 plus miles under our feeble fan belt, we land at Joe’s Truck Repair, camp in Williamsburg (pre-hipster), suffer through a summer heatwave (global warming had replaced the coming Ice Age as the hypochondriac obsession du jour), barbecue in the shadow of The Twin Towers (pre-9/11), and cruise the seedy underbelly of Times Square (pre-Disneyfication). Searching for bull penis in Chinatown, we cruise the last vestiges of authentic New York, including Princess Pamela’s fried chicken, Yonah Schimmel’s Knishes, Katz’s Deli, Hotel Chelsea, the African American Wax Museum, and Fresh Kills Dump (yes, really). We land afternoons with Quentin Crisp, the Woman with a Beard, Gene Pool, and a final stop at The Doll Hospital. Goodbye, squeegee people, St. Mark’s Place, and CBGBs. As gentrification takes hold, The Monks close the curtain on the glory days of New York and twelve years on the road.
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