Bridge
I walked home tonight, over the Brooklyn Bridge, all the time kicking myself that I didn't have my camera with me. (Which makes for awkward walking, of course.) I love clear crisp winter nights - everything just seems so sharp and brilliant. Even if it was 56 degrees as I made my way into Brooklyn, not exactly January weather.
I want to try to walk at least one night a week, more in the warmer weather. Today it didn't cross my mind until I was already at work and wearing a skirt that wraps and closes on one side (like a kilt) and already caused me some problems just walking from the subway to the office. (Wind, you see, blowing open my skirt, and not in the sexy Marilyn Monroe on the subway grate kind of way.) The luxury of working in an office complex that is part mall is that I was able to run to the Gap and buy a pair of sweatpants.
Yes, it was 56 degrees, but it was also dark, and there is a noticeable chill settling in. I unzipped my winter coat as I walked, but didn't really feel like shedding it. But when I got a block from home, a woman was walking in front of me in a sleeveless sweater and lightweight shimmery skirt. And fake-Uggs boots. Everybody was staring at her (her entire ensemble, including her grocery cart, was bright orange, so noticeable) and I wondered if there maybe is a full moon tonight.
People on the street can be fertile ground for basing characters on, but I think she is too over-the-top to put in a story. On the other hand, this morning I passed a man in a suit and trenchcoat who was walking along the sidewalk with one hand holding a folded copy of the Wall Street Journal and the other holding onto his toddler son's hand. Another boy, about five or six, walked beside them. Neither of the kids spoke. All I could think was how sad. Dad can't even be bothered to engage them in conversation. He was obviously not a stay-at-home dad, so I'm assuming his time with them is limited. But I guess the newspaper is more important to him.
I want to try to walk at least one night a week, more in the warmer weather. Today it didn't cross my mind until I was already at work and wearing a skirt that wraps and closes on one side (like a kilt) and already caused me some problems just walking from the subway to the office. (Wind, you see, blowing open my skirt, and not in the sexy Marilyn Monroe on the subway grate kind of way.) The luxury of working in an office complex that is part mall is that I was able to run to the Gap and buy a pair of sweatpants.
Yes, it was 56 degrees, but it was also dark, and there is a noticeable chill settling in. I unzipped my winter coat as I walked, but didn't really feel like shedding it. But when I got a block from home, a woman was walking in front of me in a sleeveless sweater and lightweight shimmery skirt. And fake-Uggs boots. Everybody was staring at her (her entire ensemble, including her grocery cart, was bright orange, so noticeable) and I wondered if there maybe is a full moon tonight.
People on the street can be fertile ground for basing characters on, but I think she is too over-the-top to put in a story. On the other hand, this morning I passed a man in a suit and trenchcoat who was walking along the sidewalk with one hand holding a folded copy of the Wall Street Journal and the other holding onto his toddler son's hand. Another boy, about five or six, walked beside them. Neither of the kids spoke. All I could think was how sad. Dad can't even be bothered to engage them in conversation. He was obviously not a stay-at-home dad, so I'm assuming his time with them is limited. But I guess the newspaper is more important to him.
posted by medusa at 7:03 PM
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