cec in the city – episodes 5 & 6
I had some time to kill between work and rehearsal a few nights ago. So I picked up a sandwich from a near-by deli and settled myself on a bench in Bryant Park to enjoy a light dinner and a little reading before the threat of rain became a reality or until I had to run to the studio, whichever came first. I’ve gotten used to maneuvering with several pieces of daily luggage. So I quickly found a comfortable position, surrounded by my large purse which holds the day’s necessities and my dance bag, both of which were still strapped to my being. Eating finger food and reading don’t go well together, but I managed.
Even though I was focused on my own little world, I was mindful of the goings on around me. I saw the young man walking across the lawn in my direction, but I was sitting near an opening to the terrace so I didn’t think much of it. And I was a little surprised when he stopped at my bench.
“I really like your look,” he said.
I looked at him blankly. “Excuse me?” I hadn’t expected a conversation and my mind was a little slow in switching gears.
“You have a great look,” he repeated.
“Oh. Well… Thanks.” I turned my attention back to my book, but he continued.
“You’re a New Yorker, right?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer this question. Obviously I live and work in New York, but I’m still a recent transplant. I’m pretty sure I don’t qualify as a true New Yorker quite yet. Still… I’m not a tourist, and I apparently didn’t look like one. After a quick debate, I answered that I do live in the city. The young man went onto explain that he was works in PR for a new salon and they were looking for offer new customers a massive discount on a spa package, blah, blah, blah.
I didn’t take the deal. I told the young man that I am satisfied with the beauty routine I have and that it was less expensive than the discounted price of the package. But I loved that even though I’m not a full-fledged New Yorker yet, at least I look like one.
Upon leaving rehearsal yesterday, I parted ways with my friend Andrea where we usually pick up our train and headed over to catch the Uptown 1 for my weekly trip to Trader Joe’s. I was about to head down the stairs when a woman stopped me.
“Excuse me. Will the Downtown 1 take me to the Staten Island Ferry?” she asked.
I paused and then confirmed that yes it would. She thanked me, and I hurried on my way quite pleased with myself that I was asked for directions and knew the answer.
About an hour or so later, I was back at Columbus Circle waiting for the A. I must have really looked like a New Yorker yesterday because during the especially long wait for the A train, I was asked for directions two more times.
The first time, an elderly gentleman who spoke little English wanted to make sure he was at the right place. He showed me a paper that had directions written on it.
“A? Here?” he asked.
“Yes. Right here,” I said. He thanked me profusely and moved over to wait.
A short while later, a young woman approached me and asked where she could pick up the 6 uptown. The directions were hurried as my train was pulling into the station, but I knew exactly where she needed to go. That’s right – I knew exactly how to get where she needed to go.
Don’t worry, reader. My pride will goeth quickly: I know can’t keep up this streak for ever. But for now, I am loving the fact that I was three for three yesterday!