City Living

I would like to write a mystery novel.  I’ve started watching “The Last Thing He Told Me” on Apple and after two episodes I’m writing twists and turns in my head on how I think this story could go.  It’s not really a fun quality as I’m constantly trying to figure it out, from episode 1. I usually have it figured out before the end. I’d love to write a story with lots of twists and turns. Currently, I have started two other books. And I’m not motivated to work on either of them so I don’t think I should start another one, in another genre, that I’m totally unqualified to write.  Still,,,one day I’m gonna do it.

So here’s a funny story, sort of. The other day, well first, to set the scene, I have this cough that I got from my mom.  Not Covid.  Just a deep cough.  I thought maybe it was one of her “near death” symptoms, until I got the same cough, and then just realized she made me sick. So anyway, I was feeling pretty poorly the other day; however, it was a beautiful sunny day, warm temps, so I thought sitting in the sun would do me good.  You know when you’re sick and go to sit outside you just throw on a T-shirt, jeans, and on this particular day I threw on a very wrinkled flannel shirt as like a light jacket. I grabbed my book and phone and out I went. Okay, so here I am sitting on a park bench, a bit disheveled looking, because I’m sick and that’s what most people would look like if they went out to their yard sick, and I notice this young man struggling to keep his pants up. At first he was on his phone with one hand, the other hand kept pulling his pants up. At some point he just leans over, pants fall down, then his underwear fall down half way. He’s propped up against a wall, ass out, and he stays that way for however long one does when they get high like that. Could have been 15 minutes could have been 5, could have been 30.  I don’t know.  But all I kept thinking was we are behind a school (there’s a charter school in my building) – Not only that, but ya know we city folk just want to sit outside and eat our lunch in the sun or read a book.  I sent the mayor’s office an email, which I am now wont to do as a city resident, suggesting that at least have a police officer, or security person walk through the park once in awhile.  Just walk through, ya know?  After a few minutes of me with my holier than thou attitude and disgust with city living these days, the guy leaves and I pick up my book to read.  I read about one paragraph and start nodding off. I’m sick you know, and my eyes hurt, and I’m that kind of sick that I just keep nodding off.  And I realize had police walked through, or a security, there was not much that separated me from the guy without his pants on.  Sure I had my pants on (I think) but I was nodding off on that park bench, I was disheveled looking and well you see where this is going don’t you?  Clearly the man with his pants down was high, and clearly I do wish that someone would walk through and just move him along, but clearly I too could have been mistaken for an undesirable.

On another day, when I was dressed appropriately, I was walking down 5^th Avenue, coming from Target (the old Kaufmann’s/Macy’s) – it was a cold day, and you know how they have these squares that are like planters, with a tree and some flowers, an elevated concrete planter thing?  Know what I’m talking about?  Well there was a woman, just fell right over in there and she couldn’t get up. It was cold, snow on the ground cold.  I mean it’s like astonishing to see this woman who just fell over and now can’t get up and she’s talking, asking in a very normal voice for someone to help her up. You want to laugh but it was so pathetic, and sad, and like how do you respond, beside wanting to help her get up, which I assure you most people want no part of.  I did stop to see if I could assist in some non-physical way. There was one man trying to lift her up.  He was having trouble.  She was a big woman.  I really didn’t want to help pull her up because I was positive I would pull my back out. Luckily another man came and between the two of them they got her upright.  She was suffering from the same affliction as the man with his pants down was suffering.  The two men righted her and I asked if she wanted me to call anyone.  She said no and off we went, left her sitting on the edge of the cold planter. No one was sympathetic to her plight. This is the glamorous city life I lead.

That said I just got my notice to sign my lease for another year of city living. I am told often by friends and family that I don’t belong in the city in a high rise. I need my own little yard where I can fall asleep in my t-shirt, in my own chair, where no one will confuse me with a homeless heroine addict. But even if I could, I would not know where to move.  I am all over the place with where I want to call home next. So it looks like it’s another year of city living for me. Maybe this is the year that the city will turn around.  Maybe they’ll add rooftop sitting to my building? I’m positive there is a book in there using my city living as a backdrop, with a lot of twists and turns.

xoxo