A cheapskate takes on pricey New York

At about $75 a pop, the opera tickets weren't what you'd call a bargain. But after all, it was the Metropolitan Opera, I thought, and it was performing both Mozart's "Cosí Fan Tutte" and Rossini's "An Italian in Algiers" in one day.

Besides, I don't make it down to the Big Apple from Beantown all that often.

Anyway, I thought that by squeezing a buck here and there, I could indulge myself a bit and still justify such cultural extravagance.

First I had to get there. Airfare was out of the question. Although the bus is cheaper, the train is quick, smooth, and more leisurely. Plus, it's a bit easier to tap out a story on a laptop on a train than to be lurched around as if on some carnival ride, in a bus.

"Are you a member of AAA?" the Amtrak ticket seller asked as I purchased my ticket a few days before my trip. "If you have your AAA card with you, you get a 10 percent discount."

Well, that was an easy $10 back in my wallet, I thought.

Then came the hard part: getting a hotel room for a Saturday night.

After casting around, the cheapest room I could come up with hovered around $140.

Computer to the rescue! Maybe there was something to those campy Priceline.com TV ads with William Shatner. Surely if Captain Kirk could maneuver the Starship Enterprise around the galaxy all those years safely, he could beam me down to New York.

Worth a shot. After calling up the website, I typed in my suggested price for a room in a two-star hotel: $50.

Ha! I could almost hear my computer laugh out loud. No chance, came its reply.

OK, $75, I countered.

Bingo! One night at the Empire Hotel for $75 (plus tax and a modest handling fee.) And an added bonus: You can almost see the tonsils when the fat lady sings from the Empire Hotel – it's that close to the Met.

The 4-1/2-hour train trip – beginning at 6:35 Saturday morning – had endless stops in every backwater, but got me there with a few hours to spare.

"Your room is ready, Mr. Young, but there's a $2 'acceptance fee,' " said the woman at the reception desk.

Fine. I was too tired to even ask what that meant. "What do these rooms usually go for?" I inquired.

"Well, depending on the day, from $199 to $260. I staggered up to my modest but more-than-adequate room with a smile on my face.

After crashing for a couple of hours, I was awakened by the sound of my stomach rubbing against my backbone. Hunger.

No time for a meal, I ferreted out the nearest snack machine and fed it a buck for a 1-1/4-ounce pack of Time Out Party Mix.

First three ingredients; corn, vegetable oil, salt. Yum, salt, my favorite food group. You know it's gotta be good. I slipped in another buck. Why not splurge? This is New York.

Matinee curtain time was in 20 minutes, and I was just a two-minute walk from the Met's glass doors.

Mozart was well served by a splendid production and especially fine ensemble work. I floated out of the theater, but those two packs of party mix had worn off somewhere in the middle of the second act.

Where to eat? I remembered this cheap sushi joint on Broadway, just a block and a half away. Dan's Tempura.

Dan's was overflowing. Folks were lined up to get in. But in 10 minutes I had a table and placed my order for sushi deluxe. Twelve pieces of sushi, including ikura (salmon roe), my total favorite. I'd save that for dessert. Two Perriers at $2.75 each helped wash it down.

Still 20 minutes to curtain. Maybe I'd have a real dessert. Ice Cream Tempura – vanilla or red bean – sounded intriguing.

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