Back in New York...

Last week I traveled back to the motherland.   I strolled through the West Village, up and down Bleeker Street as I'd done so many times before when I called the city my home.  I gazed into the Cynthia Rowley shop window and lamented the boarded doors of the corner book store across from Magnolia Bakery.  Will there come a day when city blocks full of niche shops simply cease to exist?  Where will the Sex in the City tour buses reroute through?

I met friends with new babies for lunch at Bar Pitti on Sixth Avenue, where the waitress shook her head from side to side while simultaneously blowing air through her lips whenever we chose a dish that didn't meet her standards.  By the end of the interaction, she had ordered all three of our meals plus appetizers.  We enjoyed every bite.  Eggplant Parmesan for lunch- now that's New York!   

Perhaps the most quintessentially New York part of my brief stay was the run I ventured out on the morning after my arrival.  I had arranged to meet my friend Lindsey, a native NY actress forced to declare her primary residency in Los Angeles so that she might enjoy a future that included food, for an early morning run and an iced coffee- a favorite Big Apple activity.  The hundred plus degree, excessively moist weather meant the only livable outdoor hours were before 10am.

I met Lindsey on the corner of Hudson and Bleeker, and off we went toward the West Side Highway running path.  As we made our way downtown along the river, through the pathways lined with tall reeds and dark green brush, we chatted happily about Lindsey's new love and the energy of a New York summer.  God, it was so good to be back, even with heat so high you felt like you were in a frying pan.  We came upon a series of nearly empty benches, it was Friday morning and most people were toiling away at work.  We split the benches and continued our happy chat.  A lone woman sat reading at the far end.  As we approached, her gaze drifted up to meet mine and she suddenly burst out, "Stop talking!  Stop talking!  Shut up!"  Odd?  Yes.  But somehow comforting.

This next interaction was the exact opposite of comforting.  We rounded the corner and saw a woman, who resembled the SNL character Pat, staring at us from a distance.  She proceeded to reach her hand into her pants.  Ummmmm, was she doing what I think she was doing?  Yup.  Odd and extremely unsettling, yet unfortunately still typical.

After that, we picked up the pace, sprinting ahead to the most familiar place we West Villagers know, the coffee shop.  Once there, we noticed that the new shop took only cash.  Products of our increasingly electronic environment, we had bank cards.  Yet, in a New York twist, the owner and barista gave us the iced coffees on the house.  Now that's comforting and very typical of my beloved NYC and its people.

On our way home while crossing the West Side Highway to return to our respective temporary West Village abodes, we encountered an angry soccer mom clearly not used to driving in the city behind the wheel of her minivan.  She had ignored the 8 foot wide crosswalk and decided to stop her car clear across our path.  Like the benches, we split it and I walked behind the van.  Bad idea.  She started backing up without checking her rear view mirror.  Why would you when you're driving in a city where pedestrians outnumber passengers 4 to 1?  In an effort to save her friend (me), Lindsey yelled "Watch where you're going!  You almost hit my friend!"  To which, the soccer mom replied, "No, you better watch where you're going!"  And then, all hell broke loose and we were in the middle of a New York brawl with a soccer mom (yes, her kids were in the back seat).  

As we walked away,  I thought to myself, "ah, it's good to be back..."