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 up ahead because I knew I was on "home" turf. A lot of signs here promoted the opening of rival store A&S the following week, featuring a special performance by...LaToya Jackson. No thanks. I stopped at the Wendy's on 7th Avenue to reward myself for a good day. It was marginally cleaner than the McDonald's by the Sloane House YMCA, and I liked their single with cheese combo meal more.
Afterwards I headed back to the Y because...I had nowhere else to go. After 11 days I had nothing left to discover in the Penn Station zone. There's "sketchy" and then there's "barely drawn in" like this dark and empty area. It was the New York the well-meaning folks of Ohio had warned me about. But I had come to learn a lot of New York was beautiful too.
And weird. At the corner of 34th and 8th, a little person with his own microphone and small speaker sang out about getting caught between the moon and New York City. His version was so much better than Christopher Cross's.
(Photo: Pixabay/Peter Gulden)
Comments
Post a Comment