NYC Tough

I think I am cursed when it comes to posting pics on here. For the second trip in a row I am having issues accessing my photos and allowing you to share in the fun of my city experience. I hope my writing can keep your attention long enough for you to forget about the visual angle. I promise to load those sons of bitches as soon as I get a quality Internet connection. The Starbucks below our hotel, like every fucking place in the city, is packed with freeloading assholes like me who want fast and free Internet. I contemplated confronting the lady who had clearly set up her 'office' at 6 am today. She was squeezing every last cent out of that $2 coffee she bought 10 hours ago. I am not tough enough for a coffee shop fight in NYC.

My husband, and others who know me well, have mentioned how well I fit into city life. It could be my mouth or my natural "Fuck Off" face. People look at me from across the room and immediately think I hate them. I rarely get approached by panhandlers and when I do they are quick to beeline after my abrupt NO. During my last trip to NYC, I could see what my friends and family were saying. I could hail a cab in 30 seconds flat, push through crowds like a champ and navigate the subway like a local. Could I possibly be tough enough to live in a big city? The answer is no. This trip has made it perfectly clear that I am a suburban mom with only enough sass to survive in my neck of the woods.

While walking back to our hotel on the upper west side of Manhattan, I was approached by a strung out street walker who asked me if she could ask me a question. (You just did.) I loudly told her I had no money for her and she got upset. "That's not my question" she yelled. I kept walking and my husband, who was a few feet behind me, was approached by her at which point she pretended to need the time. She then pulled out a cell phone and called someone. The story in my head went something like this: strung out hooker calls pimp who is walking toward me, pimp proceeds to accost me while she is behind me, I am cornered and taken advantage of. Small town girl gets mugged in NYC by pimp and meth head. The end. My heart was pounding and I sprinted to my hotel, leaving my husband to fend for himself. If that's not tough, I don't know what is.

Today I was once again slapped in the face by reality while taking a solo trip on the subway. I was standing just inside the door making my way to the middle when a large man ran through the door, tackling a smaller gentleman who had just stepped on the train. The big asshole proceeded to push the gentleman across the train and into a metal pole. He was flailing and screaming for him to get out of his fucking way, asking him if he was stupid or what. My blood pressure skyrocketed so quickly, I thought I may pass out. There was yelling from other passengers and absolutely no where for me to move. I was in the middle of the action and I wanted to shit in my new black leggings. I kept breathing and made a plan, it went something like this: they start pushing, I jump over the legs of this guy to my left, I pull out something dangerous from my purse (cell phone, granola bar, floral wallet, tampon) and wield it in order to save myself. Now that's some tough business. Who isn't intimidated by a short chick swinging a tampon around?

I am not tough enough for NYC. I am barely tough enough to visit NYC without having my heart explode or meeting up with someones pimp. This city business is not for me and I am old enough to be okay with that. The jokes about living in suburbia are endless and there have been times I felt guilty for living in a safe, quiet neighborhood while all the cool kids were bar hopping and using public transportation. No more. I'm a suburban housewife and proud of it. It keeps me in clean underwear and off blood pressure medication.