Day 175: I’d Rather Go For A Walk [Friday Thoughts W/ TeeCoZee]
Good Moleman. The snow’s melted. We can go outside again! I’m cold and there are wolves after me. It’s Friday, March 12th Twenty Twenty Plus Two Minus One. The weather in Astoria is 68° & Pantone C4E8F6 and somewhere, somebody is riding a bike. Another person is driving. Some people are running. Some people are flying. Hell, there’s probably some motherfuckers on Unicycles. And me? I’d prefer to walk. So I’m going to do that. For a very long time. I gonna walk to the Upper East Side and back. Just because it’s warm out and I can! And while I do that, I hope to have some things on my mind. Or maybe I’ll just point out stupid shit that I see. Probably the latter.
– I haven’t even left yet and I already have Walkabout stuck in my head.
Since I was 9 years old, I’ve been listening to this song on the first warm stretch of the year. And I don’t even like RHCP. Go figure.
– One block in and I already spotted a dude eating a booger. Didn’t even try to hide it. Off to a hot start!
– I’m pretty sure there was a couple trying to teach their stroller-ridden child how to sing Frank Sinatra. Some conversations you just wanna stop and listen to.
– If a deli has a chalkboard menu and there’s hardly any space for you to stand inside, it’s probably amazing. You can trust them to make a good sando. Bonus points if the person behind that counter has hairy arms. Those rules might only apply in New York.
– I drank a whole can of coffee in 2 minutes. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s just a thing. Typically, the speed of my beverage consumption is proportionate to the proximity to a trash can. And knowing that the can-less bridge was near, I was suddenly ridiculously thirsty. Science.
The Queensboro Bridge is not a leisurely stroll. It’s serious business. The bike lanes are way too small, everyone goes at full speed and a lot of motorcyclists opt to take it to beat traffic. It’s generally dangerous for everyone. I know that by standing in the pedestrian lane, I’m doing nothing wrong. But I can’t help but feel like I’m in everyone’s way. I’m much too fat for this bridge. I need to lose weight to walk here. I should start going on long walks or something. I’m already doing that. Mission accomplished. Good job, Troy. Now stop looking down at your phone and pay attention.
That’s better. Oh wait, I’m still looking down. God damnit.
– So far, I’ve counted 7 middle aged white men on scooters. It’s alarming that I’m going to be one of them soon.
– Once again, a perfectly good baseball diamond, scenically placed below a bridge, is being used for soccer. I’ve been at war with this phenomenon for a decade.
I don’t care how young they are. They need to learn baseball, damnit! Or at the very least, learn to respect it.
– Even though I’m walking north, things have turned south. I most definitely should not have drank that coffee. Now, I can’t focus on writing or observing. All I can focus on is the inner workings of my stomach. And all I see around me is unwelcoming concrete. It’s hard enough to find a public restroom in the city. During a pandemic, it’s damn near impossible. At this point, I wonder if I could go to an ER and have them send my insurance company a bathroom bill. After all, it is an emergency, right? RIGHT?!?
– It didn’t work out. Nothing worked out. I am now a shell of a man that I once was. After aimlessly panicking up and down York Ave, I took a train down to Penn Station, where I had to do some things that I don’t want to talk about at the moment. What transpired was a good 2-3 hours of panic that has beaten me senseless.
I’ve never had a panic attack while writing before. I guess there’s a first for everything.
I took the train home instead of walking my planned loop. It’s better off this way. I now can’t even get off the couch. Walking 7 miles and having a sustaining attack drains a lot from your body. I’ve now learned that the hard way.
– Try this trick over the weekend: take care of yourself. Whether it’s your body, your mind or both.
Have a good weekend, everyone.