This weekend Kent and I were given free tickets to see a show that’s in previews on Broadway – we’re friends with the director. It’s not a show I normally would want to see, but hey – free is free. We arrived at the theater right before 8:00 p.m. and were getting settled in our seats when I saw my friend Jay, who is the assistant director, walking up our aisle. He was looking intently at the audience, which is odd, because he should have been upstairs getting ready to watch the show and make notes. He passed us by, and about 10 seconds later a NYPD uniformed officer came in and asked the man sitting next to Kent to come with him. The man left with the policeman, then returned about 2 minutes later, just as the show began. At intermission the man got up and left his seat, just as our friends (director and assistant director) came down to talk to us. The gave us the scoop: Jay had seen the man getting out of a cab earlier, and as he stepped out of the taxi, a gun fell out of his coat and onto the street. He had picked it up and then taken his seat inside. Jay felt a little uncomfortable with the gun-dropping, so he had a policeman come in and talk to the man. Apparently the man is/was a detective, and had the proper permits/licenses, so there was no problem. But guns aren’t really the kind of thing that should just be falling on the street, are they? Keys, fine. Cell phone? also fine. But a loaded gun? I want that kept securely somewhere…
On Sunday I headed uptown to run a few errands, and I found myself foiled at every turn. It was a bad day. Subways - bad. Place I was supposed to meet somepeople - closed for a private party. My cell phone - dead. The people I was supposed to meet - rescheduled the meeting without my knowing. Weather - damp. Hair - frizzy and gross. Etcetera, etcetera. I was 2nd Avenue, north of 80th Street, which is an area of town that I really don’t like. Feeling completely defeated and deflated, I decided to walk west over to Madison Avenue and do a little (window) shopping. I meandered down Madison to Barneys, which predictably cheered me up. On the way, however, I saw and heard more than a few upsetting things. Such as:
• The saleswoman at Calypso (an upscale boutique) telling a 12-year old that “…Oh, I haven’t seen you in a while! Have you been out of town?”
• The 12-year old replying, while she fingered a cashmere hoodie, “…oh, well, I, like, go to boarding schooll, you know, so I’m kinda, um, busy with that. I, like, have NO time in the city anymore…”
• The eight-year old girl talking about finding a new yoga studio because she is bored with her current yoga class.
• A woman walking two llasa apsos wearing doggie tiaras.
• The woman who bought a lovely necklace at Barneys for $8,700 in about 2 minutes flat. She walked up, tried it on, bought it, and left.
After sufficient window shopping, I just wanted to get home. I got on the F train and headed back to Brooklyn. About four stops from home, a trio of bongo players got on and totally rocked our car. I love New York moments like that; I was having a shitty day and was just sitting, reading my book - fully tuned out - when all of a sudden there was good live music, right in front of me. Even better, sitting across from me was a mother with two kids, both dressed up in Halloween costumes. She had an infant in a pumpkin suit and a little girl in a lavish bride costume, complete with veil and bouquet. They were adorable, and seemed like >real kids, not the mini-adults I had just seen up on Madison Avenue. Although, Brooklyn kids can be sassy too. On Friday at work, a seven-year-old girl told me how she had done a Google Image search to decide on a Halloween costume.
In other news, Kent and I are talking seriously about getting a dog. We went down this road once before, and even talked to breeders (and looked at shelters, so don’t think I’m not aware of all the great homeless dogs that need love too!). We didn’t feel quite ready, but have been talking about it more and more. I LOVE dogs, but want to make sure we get one at the right time. I’ve never trained a puppy before, and for some reason, I worry that I won’t be able to do it. Dumb, right? But still, I worry…
Finally, here is another favorite Halloween picture. It’s my three younger brothers, circa 1986ish. My favorite thing about this picture is that the “Safe” costume had been a box of Cheerios the year before, with a giant Cheerio as the headpiece.