It’s been a sopping wet rainy day in NYC. Foolishly, I came with parka and though light-as-a-feather when dry, it weighs approximately 27 kg when wet. Walking around this City, encased in a 27 kg goose-feather filled 27 kg parka is proving to be a fascinating case study in space-time manipulation for those around me.
People here tend to slam in to any passer-by. (Something not followed up with eye-contact, a “sorry” or even a mild “oh!”. The only people acknowledging the body slam are non-New Yorkers; the only ones apologizing are Canadians.) People who have today slammed in to my sopping wet parka have vanished upon point of slam, only to re-emerge 3 blocks later. That’s what wet goose down does. One gentleman was rather adorable and though I tried to wrangle him in for deeper and longer, I failed. I am hoping that I will find at least one more boy buried somewhere in my parka before this day is done. (Godspeed! to me.)
Additional points of interest:
* I have discovered the tastiest and most amazing brand of dried mangoes known to wo/ mankind in the history of the entire known world, this one and all others perished. Philippine Brand; I don’t exaggerate when I write that I would willingly and with a smile knock over an old lady and her walker to access more of this edible heaven.
* I had forgotten just how much money makes its way in this City and how easily it shows within the shoes, implants, botox, and hair colour of its citizens; I believe NYC’s new ‘tag line’ ought to be Gold Diggers Welcome, with sub-tag ‘the prettier, the better’.
* I am officially not a foodie while here because I would rather graze at the street vendors than eat at the $75 per plate restaurants. The street vendors are nicer and their food tastier. Trust.