Thursday, June 10, 2010

How To Stop a European In Their Tracks

It’s summer season and the city is flooded with pond jumpers. With the Euro falling like a lead pig I would have thought the fanny packed chain smoking tight pants wearing throngs would have kept close to leur maison…ehhh not so much.

Us city dwellers have a long history of dealing with our influx of tourists, sure we NEED them for the economy BUT really can’t Bloomberg corral them into Times Square and let them wander ‘round aimlessly with their Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bags and sun burnt heads tilted towards the sky? Believe me they will be happy little clams and return from whence they came overflowing with wondrous tales of the big city.

Unfortunately the reality is they are among us, commingling on our sidewalks and mass transit. For decades we’ve shared our public spaces with these world travelers and have become accustomed to their inexplicable lack of movement when faced with the precariously daunting exercise of ascending or descending a staircase or escalator. Yes moving up and or down is very risky behavior and all New Yorkers expect you (and your brood) to immediately cease all movement once you’ve reached either the top or bottom landing of any stepped edifice, however what the CRAP is up with the doorway thing?

Through my non-scientific research I have discovered that Europeans are deathly afraid of doorways, these gateways to the unknown have so boggled the minds of our international guests that I am certain if I Google Earthed the Continent I would discover bewildered locals amassed on either side of the Arc de Triomphe, the Brandenburg Gate, and the Arch of Constantine. Or maybe they reserve this behavior solely for overseas travel, la how jolly. For there is nothing quite like entering an establishment behind a family of 5 only to be denied admission due to the defensive line of immobility. Or while exiting being greeted by the couple who took one step outside then decided the doorframe would be the PERFECT location for a smoke and chat.

This afternoon after squeezing past dozens of frozen foreigners (‘cause not even a gentle “excuse me” can propel them back into motion) I took matters (and a door) into my own hands.

While attempting to exit a shop on Lexington Ave I was trapped behind a bedazzled Italian couple who not only allowed the door slam behind them (nice – in my face) but then stood directly in front of the glass door blocking all pedestrian traffic both in and out of the establishment. The backup began to grow on the sidewalk with frustrated customers trying to sidestep ‘round our stationary interlopers, meanwhile I was poised, hand firmly on the push bar, with at least 4 women behind me audibly grunting their disapproval. This is not my proudest moment (or maybe it is) but I swung the door open making full contact with Rudolpho’s back and right shoulder (goooaaaaal) forcing him to pivot just enough to allow the rushing dam waters of annoyed NYers to push past him and his Metallic Graphic T wife.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Where has the time gone?

I know it’s awful, I have really let this blogging thing go to the dogs, but strangely enough NOTHING bizarre has happened in my life.

I’ve stopped internet dating, not because I’ve found my bo-hunk but because the daily influx of illiteratatti combined with MONTHS of non-matching/ non- responses was turning your favorite Sweet Polly Sunshine into a bitter crab apple.

The weather is finally cooperating after 26 months of cold dampness, fingers crossed, I may return to my luscious brown nuttiness.

The apartment is holding together and I weathered the false Bed Bug scare like a champ – after space bagging my entire abode ala E.T. home style then totally falling apart into tears.

My job is fantastic, The Lady thinks I am a super star and through my amazing mind control I have convinced her that buying new uber fancy office chairs and closing the office at 1pm on Fridays were both her ideas. However last week I was back to my old tricks again when I accidently pinned her behind the office door thereby smashing her very dainty hand– gulp.

So all is swell, spending tons of time with good pals, traveling, being awarded with the
Key To The City, and just this past weekend I was proposed to by another Gay! So this now makes the tally 4 engagements; 3 gay and one underage straight. Funny these boys just blurt out proposals yet NONE of them have ever presented a ring, I am beginning to think this whole thing is a hoax.