I have mentioned at great length my loathsome and beloved habit of slugging at home, blissfully alone, perched in my nest lined with second-hand twigs and leafy basil.
Well, it should be noted that I spend a great deal of time about town as well. (Perhaps partially in efforts of not being labeled a shut in.) I am speedy on my little Red Bike and I zip around Brooklyn around and under car mirrors, avoiding pot holes and foolish pedestrians, all the while shouting at cars who try to pin me against other cars. (At least once a ride!)
I also stroll, not just within the parameters of my neighborhood but beyond as well, into the thick of things. Like, two neighborhoods away.
Here are some cats I collected on the way.
Sightings: Fulton Street, Brooklyn, NY
Sighting: Bedford Avenue, Hipstertowne, NY
Sighting: St. Marks Ave, Brooklyn, NY
This one is also from St. Marks. Last weekend, following the day of face slushballs and giant cups of cocoa, the sun was shining (that coy lady, as if nothing had happened!) and Suzanne and I decided to go for a walk.
To get doughnuts.
We were approximately halfway there when THIS young man stopped our progress.
We played with him for a little while, until a man stuck his head out from the basement window of that brownstone whose gate we’re creeping on.
“That’s Africa!” he yelled. “He runs the show!”
“OHHHHH!!!” we squealed, and I know I’m speaking for the both of us when I say we suddenly found a new reason for living.
The other night, Jake and I found ourselves taking that same route, reversed, our bellies full of inexpensive tacos and fancy ice creams. One of us was gleefully carrying a crate she’d found on the street and claimed as her own.
And Africa was there as well!
He’s my new best friend. He runs the show.
Welp, you’ll have to excuse me as I jet off to have Jess Brunchsack and then do lame art stuff all day and also clean the bathtub.