Little Brett, Big City

In 1989, I graduated from Bowling Green State University. Which is a mouthful. So when people in New York asked me where I went to school. I would just say "Bowling Green."  The first time, I got a quizzical look and a "Huh?" The second person finally asked, "You went to school at a subway station?" My turn to go "Huh?" I then learned that "Bowling Green" is indeed a station on the #4 and #5 lines on the NYC Subway system, way downtown in the Financial District. I'm including a pic of the Bowling Green "head house," which is the rare, above-ground part of a station that contains escalators, elevators, and ticket agents. (Thanks again, Wikipedia.) (Wikimedia Commons/DSchwen) This little beauty is a New York City-designated landmark and is on the National Register of Historic Places. And I still haven't been there yet. 

I continued my walk through Times Square after temping that day at CitiGroup. I did not loiter in the "Crossroads of the World." Instead, I fixed my eyes ahead, not daring to engage anyone. When ultimately asked for money by a guy with nice shoes, I just scowled and shook my head "No." Two weeks in the city and I was already building up my New Yorker defense shield!  I also steered clear of the X-rated temptations on 42nd Street. OK, I peeked at a couple of the porn shops and theaters, but I felt a little sleazy in my interview suit. Better to stay focused and just get home.  Once passed that circus, the shadows in the streets grew longer. The blocks below Times Square were emptier with only grim delis and gated storefronts guarding bald mannequins. Turning one wrong corner could drop you into a bad neighborhood. I walked quickly, close to the curb, listening for footsteps or car doors opening. No one was going to surprise me. I felt relieved when I saw Macy's u