I’m not a big fan of the subway. I’m not a big fan of cabs. Or buses. I am a big fan of walking New York streets. 30 New York City blocks feels like 5 Shitty Post Industrial Town (SPIT!) blocks. That’s my plan whenever possible. Today I ate an insanely early dinner, got on the train into Grand Central and then had 65 minutes to walk 30+ blocks. Which I didn’t need at all, being the super awesome walker that I am I make it in less than 30. Hmm time to kill. Instead of loitering around the theater I decide to sit on a Central Park bench and read for a bit. I have begun unstructured, no one to report to, purely for pleasure post college reading. Which I love on a scale similar to city walking.
I’m reading Shopgirl, which differs from your typical chick lit novella in that it is written by a man, Steve Martin to be exact. It is also written in a refreshing 2nd (I think that’s right..) person style. I’m enjoying it. So there I am sitting on a park bench engrossed in my reading, semi-sickly relating to the protagonist and wondering what the comments on my own life would be were they reported in this way when I’m approached Can I talk to you about something? Having just been questioned by a father and daughter as to where one can find boats (my answer: nooo idea, but I felt sillily cool that I must look like someone who would know) I look up expecting to get “Where’s the MET?” “Gimmie a quarter.” “Buy a Roladex from the side of my trench coat” He’s a guy in his 20s, cute, slim but not scrawny, scruffy brown hair, a small pimple near his nose which for some reason I am able to find strangely endearing. If you’re trying to sell me something, I’m not going to buy it. Retorted with an appropriate chuckle No I’m not going to sell you anything, I’m not even going to try to force a Bible on you. Can I just talk to you for a couple minutes?
Well, he promised no selling, no Bibles…I can run away to work if/when necessary. You can try. He sits down next to me on the bench, introduces himself, then You know those guys who get a dog out of the hope the animal will help them pick up girls? Sure. What do you think about that? This turns into a 10 minute conversation that stays pretty close to the subject, bouncing around from I’m a proven non-dog person to You can’t assume the theoretical guy got the theoretical dog for this reason to What is honesty.
So what. So where is this going. So are you on a deadline for an article or something? Are you writing a blog? Cause that’s where I know this story’s going for me. No I’m just sick of “the game” and people trying to get together by fooling each other. I just want to talk to people and be real and I was hoping I could get your phone number.
Yes this motive had crossed my mind, but just barely as I am notoriously oblivious in such matters. Well, I know what at least 2 of you are thinking, yes I felt like this was straight out of Sex and the City (in theaters in less than 24 hours! ee!) too. My inner Miranda burbled up So how many times have you tried this tactic (it carried on way too long to be “a line”) before? When his reply was an innocent What? I decided not to repeat myself. Let’s not be mean for once. He’s cute, seemingly smart, perhaps a little awkward, and with signs that hint to me he may prove obnoxious, but I really don’t know. Let’s try benefit of the doubt. Why not? People who have just left the large majority of their friends in other states may want to cast pickyness to the winds. Momentarily? At least give it a try? I gave him my number. Yep. I got picked up on a Central Park bench my first full day in Manhatten. Oh I am amused.