This week was no exception - I was greeted by that archetypal skyline as we rounded the turnpike and, as always, the sight thrilled me. I got off the bus and found myself in a midst of chain smokers dressed to the nines. I carefully didn’t place my purse on a sidewalk so covered with gum that it was textured.
I was most relieved to find my parents - I was sure that they'd be kidnapped or lost, "Idahoian tourists lured into a sweatshop with the promise of A/C"...Our hotel room was across the hall from a grandfathered-in derelict who lived there and we were all woken up together by his social worker (well, we were…I don’t think he was – the stupor was rather heavy).
I was still freaked out by drops of “liquid” from a clear sky. People tell me that it’s air conditioner condensation, but, remember – a dead body in every stairwell? I ate a hot dog with everything on it, made as only they do in NY – you know the kind, the kind where the person making it probably hasn’t washed his hands in two days.
I wandered a german art museum housed in the former Vanderbuilt home. I semi-survived the smell, humidity and heat of a summer subway. We floated by and paid our respects to Lady Liberty.
Ahhhh New York - how I love thee.
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