the other night i did my laundry.  i hate doing the laundry.  i have to lug my piled up dirty clothing and unmentionables a few blocks away from my apartment to a place that is run by some sort of asian family who speak in a dialect that may be beautiful if it werent overwhelmed with all the screaming while the children of the neighborhood run wild, almost confusing the average person that this place may in fact be a day care center.  

while on this particular trip to the laundrymat, there a man perhaps in his late 30s, spanish, and he asked me in english if i would mind if he put some other show on the tv. i planned on reading my book and told him i would not mind but thanked him for asking.  

later, after i packed up my folded clothes, the same man said to me as i passed him “have a nice night, young lady” and i surprisingly yet cheerfully responded “night” and walked out.  what interests me still is just how casual and polite this was.  in this neighborhood i would’ve expected something more like “hey mommie, you look goooood” or some sort of gross kissy noise or whistle, as is the usual weak attempt by the men in this neighborhood to speak to a woman.  

what interests me further still is when i think of a more expensive neighborhood, i am almost certain i would’ve been given a snooty look, perhaps a judgement on my nonsensical fashion style or no exchange at all, each party being almost too respectful to even acknowledge the other.  

in a very strange way, this stranger’s tone was not strange at all.  it was nice and maybe even complementary in some way yet lacking the slightest whiff of creepiness.  the interaction felt very … human.  very … decent.  

as if the hundreds of people we interact with on a daily basis still carry a singularity to them and that singularity is capable of pleasant interaction.  it was very nice.  but, i suppose in a place where everyone’s underpants are tumbling about, they should be amicable.  ;)

(originally written 9 June 2009)

Furry Mayhem & George Washington: (your average saturday night in nyc)

So, saturday night. new york city. the possibilities are seemingly endless. big clubs, countless bars, just pick a fetish.

what did i end up doing?

haha all i really wanted to do was walk my dogs and maybe have a beer or two with some friends. i decided to walk them to a friend from the record store’s house. we walked through spanish hoods then old factory yards then some hipster blocks then more spanish hoods. my mutts and i got there and there my friend was, playing a guitar on the stoop. we danced around on the sidewalk while he played us some Kinks, loving the warm night air and the enjoyment of each other actually OUT of the house somewhere. (crazy how my dogs are my best friends but i never to hang out with them outside the house. this is very sad to me now.)

then we clambered up the four floors to his tiny apartment for water. while up there i noticed he had a TV hutch as a kitchen cabinet piece. ”we found it in the garbage” is what he said. i love it. we also listened to some Sigur Ros and then Billie Holiday on his record player. then i got my friend to get out his upright bass. as a electric bass player, i always thought this would be really fucking cool. it is, but holy shit is that instrument HUGE. a little too much for me maybe. still, i got to pop and pluck an upright! then i even took the bow to it. the bow is so weird compared to my violin’s. like a stout club of a thing. haha.

we were kind of near the bar my friends were drinking at, so out we went, now accompanied by a new crew member. when i got there the bouncer said “NO DOGS” and i grew angry because the owner of that bar loooooves me but he wasnt there and i know he would’ve okay’d it. LAME. i mean, cmon, these poodles are smarter than most children. and its not like they are going to drink all the booze in the bar, although seamus is a notorious louse and sprocket is equally a bad tipper.

so we got ALL the way there to be denied. at least my friends and some of her friends were good enough to leave and take the party to her apartment. there we drank beers and listened to more vinyl (YES!).

leslie wanted to shove off and before she could i had this idea. and that was that we should recreate the Crossing of the Delaware. dont even ask my where i thought this one up.  do you know what? no one there even questioned it. everyone jumped on it, grabbing iphones for references, brooms for flags, ladles and spatulas for oars. and it was then that i knew i was in good company. i dont think i would want to be friends with anyone who would give that idea a funny look. 

as the night dwindled, i took my dogs home on the train. mind you i have NEVER taken them BOTH on the train. they are 25 and 30 lb little sheep. there was no MTA worker at the turnstile and so we just ran thru and jumped on the train. mind you, most people on the train are tanked at this hour and here i come, crazy white girl jumping onto a train in the hood with two white poodles in tow. no carrier bag or anything, just leashes and ourselves. haha. some drunk people were like “oh wow look at the puppies” and i let seamus lick them. another guy who appeared to be on a date was hanging out near me and talking to my dogs, perhaps to escape the bad date.  his girl said “them shits smell like ALPO”, in a bitch-festering attempt to disuade her man from leaving her attention. i almost got offended but let it go. then a crackhead on the train SCREAMED when he saw my two white poodles and RAN off the train at the next stop, screaming the whole way, apparently because they are very frightening creatures.

the end.

(originally written 26 April 2009)

One Tired Pup

Yesterday I had my friend (whose name happens to be Dirty - another story for another day) drive my dogs and I to what I suspected was a park about 3-4 miles from my apt. The plan was to explore and walk back, meeting him at my apt later. Well it WAS a park after all!

It started as a small path that led under a bridge an into a bike path and along a golf course. Then it twisted around the jackie robinson expressway.

Then I got a little lost and had fun with my lack of direction and wandered my way into some woods. Yes, I found a wood trail! Amazing.

My white poodles an I were slowly becoming grey/brown. We got filthy. It was great.

Then we fell out of the trail onto a basketball court?

Then a random man on a bike (who I saw on the trail a ways back and waved hello/good day/howdy to) was there too. He asked how to get to some place and I surrendered the fact that i had no idea where I was. He got out a big map and helped myself and him find our location and direction. I felt silly because I can do this with a touch of a few buttons with my iPhone but the longer this guy spent with his map out, feeling really useful and great, the more foolish I felt that I had such a contraption hidden. If it rang I would’ve died. I let him continue to feel like be was helping me because I think it made him happy.

He walked with me a little and then gave me his card. He’s  a journalist for the New Yorker. How random.

Then my dogs and I went back into the woods and came out on the right end (haha) and walked home caked in grime but happily trotting along, happy to be back in society as the sun vanished.

I washed my pals, freeing them from all the grit and grime of our Brooklyn-Queensadventure. We must’ve been out for almost 3 hours. I took this photo with my phone as we are all about to end our saturday, warm and clean and smelling nice.

(originally written 8 February 2009)