No, the M&M balloon didn’t drop a streetlight on me. Thanks for asking. November 27, 2005 ~ 11:05 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , trackbackHow much would it suck to say “Yeah, the person that got hit by the lightpole the M&M balloon knocked over? That was me. I spent my Thanksgiving with the doctors and nurses at St. Vinnie’s.”
I was not that person, so it doesn’t suck to be me. In fact, many nice things happened to me this weekend, including finding $20 on the sidewalk last night. That goes a long way toward making up for that shit time in my life three years ago when $80 fell out of my pocket when I couldn’t really afford it. Thank you, Universe, for giving me back some money.
Now that I have acknowledged that, I can move on to funny things that happened to me on the subway this weekend. When the tourists are in town, you can be sure there is plenty of fodder for comedy, even beyond helium-filled candies laying the smack down.
1.) Wednesday night I went in to Rick’s place via subway. Rick’s place is very near the area where they inflate the balloons for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. This inflation used to be one of the best kept secrets in town, but has now degenerated into a free-for-all of tourists. By the time I got to the subway stop near Rick’s house, there were about 100 of them trying to figure out how to work the Metrocard turnstiles. There were three New Yorkers (including myself) who wanted out, and after the bitch of a train ride I had in, which took 45 minutes longer than usual, I wanted out now. No tourists were moving out of my way, and so the woman beside me took charge: “Some of us want out!” she bellowed, and when that didn’t work, she said “Alright, fine. The next one of you that’s coming through the turnstile, stop. Stay there until we come through. We live here.” They did. New Yorkers, 1, Turistas, 0.
2.) Last night, when I was on the train feeling the effects of either bad Chinese or too much sexual exertion, I noticed a homeless guy getting off the train at 59th Street. As the train slowed to a stop, he started barking like a dog. He continued barking the entire way out of the train and up the staircase. Some people were obviously terrified like this. Some of us laughed really hard. Guess which ones were the tourists? New Yorkers, 2, Turistas, 0.
3.) This afternoon, a woman was discussing her favorite films with another subway rider who was obviously only listening because she was trapped. The opinionated woman started talking about Jack Nicholson films, asking if her victim had seen “Mr. Smith, you know the one where he’s forced to retire and live in a motorhome.” The victim hadn’t seen it and said so. The opinionated woman said “Oh, “Mr. Smith” is a must-see-film! It’s great!” So great that she couldn’t remember the name of the film was actually “About Schmidt.” Dear Ndugu…some people are idiots. No score awarded because I’m pretty sure the opinionated woman was a New Yorker, and I don’t want to reward her stupidity. Still, it was pretty damned funny.
4.) Tonight, a beautiful night in Brooklyn, I was climbing out of the subway and something came hurtling down the stairway at me. Something about the size of my foot, furry, and black. The woman beside me, wearing an “I Heart New York” shirt (Hi, can we say tourist?) jumped. I did not. I can tell the difference between a rat and a hair-extension tumbleweed. New Yorkers, 3, Turistas, -1.
I am reminded at this crazy time of year, when everyone drops what they’re doing in their hometowns to come to my town, stand in the middle of pedestrian traffic, ask stupid questions, and generally slow me down in any way possible, of something my cousin told me when she visited me a few years ago. “New York is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here.” I looked her in the eye and said “Maybe New York would be a nicer place to live if so many damn tourists didn’t visit here.”
Hi, my name is Julie, and I am a grouchy New Yorker.
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