Then I got on a bus a few hours later and slammed back into NY.
Since I am swamped with desk-jockey responsibilities today, that post will have to wait.
I do, however, have time for a quickie.
It takes me eight minutes to get from the subway to my front door at night. And it's never boring. I don't know if it matters what I was wearing this particular night, but I will tell you it involved 3-inch high red boots and a super cool jacket. In order, I encountered:
- A bug-eyed man who lurched toward me and grunted hello as he crossed my path as if he were a zombie after my brains.
- Another man who asked for food.
- Another man kissed me from afar and mumbled something as he walked behind me.
- A pantsless man lying on the sidewalk, with people leaning over him.
- Three teenage boys sitting on a stoop.
It was not until I got inside my apartment (aka my nap-cubby) that I realized I had been parading my Chipotle food bag through my Dominican neighborhood the whole time.
I seriously don't know how to blend.