So the sign says in Brooklyn.  I’m not really sure that I would want to try Alive Fish Soda… so maybe this is a good argument for the use of commas.  I am sure the teens of teen group are grateful that they aren’t hanging out with me right now.  Comma usage probably doesn’t rate highly on their bucket lists.  Nor mine, truth be told.

Went to New York yesterday for a meeting that didn’t happen.  Turns out that was ok.  A good time for me to reacquaint myself with the city.  A beautiful day, and for probably the first time ever I really enjoyed New York.  Sad but true, I have always approached the city with apathy bordering on anxiety.   It’s too bad because it really is a great city.

I’m not sure what brought on the change – whether the fact that I have traveled to far denser, busier, hectic cities – or that I am just ready for new adventures.  I do know what caused the original feelings of apprehension, and I’m embarrassed to admit it.

My sister and I have a joke about my mother’s newspaper clippings.  We call it her danger news.  There was a while when we were both in college, when mail from our mother meant a nice card and several newspaper articles of how to avoid being mugged, robbed, attacked, or much worse.  My sister would post these on the communal fridge for her roommates’ enjoyment, and I would peruse and pitch.

However, prior to the college danger news, I was subjected to stories oral and written on horrible, dark deeds that occurred in New York.  These stories collected inside my subconscious and manifested themselves in my unique ability to behave like a neurotic maniac when visiting New York.  Can’t walk down a street unless there are throngs, preferably parades en masse of people.  Don’t walk alone… and one or two extra people isn’t enough.

Subway rides were an exercise of muscular tension the likes of which are experienced by weight lifters who are channeling all of their strength to lift dumbbells.  I would be channeling to bodily cling to the pole or hand grip; impossible to move me or my Kung Fu grip.

Movements were quick and jerky- particularly when trying to pay a street vendor, taxi cab, or give spare change to a street musician.  Hunker down and barrel head first down the street.  Don’t make eye contact… you get the picture.

Yesterday, I meandered down the street, enjoying the spring weather.  At dusk, I didn’t scurry inside but rather continued strolling to my parked car which I calmly entered.  I didn’t peal out from the curb, desperate to blend into the crowd or frantically escape the masses.  Instead, I smoothly entered traffic and did my best NY taxi cab impersonation as I deftly whipped around traffic to get to my destination….which actually was to escape the masses and head back to Pennsylvania.

Well, back safe and sound and still pondering alive fish soda.

As ever,

K. Quinn