The Incoherent Babble of a Worn Out Woman

I am back and ready for action, and by action I mean sleep. I don't understand how people actually live in New York City. I think my limbs are going to fall off which would actually be okay with me right now because my desk is lacking a pillow and if I could just lay my head on my leg it would be wonderful.

I really thought I would come back with tales of me doing something absolutely ludicrous and getting myself into a situation that no one ever really believes, but nods and smiles so as not to awake the sleeping beast.(me.) Fear not the sleeping beast! I think I actually learned to keep my mouth shut. (I'll wait a second to let the shock wear off.) We stayed in Spanish Harlem, so we were pretty much the only white people in sight. Amidst the "Hey baby's," and the " you like to party!, YOU LIKE TO PARTY!" (apparently we looked like the the types that stripped off our sweaters to reveal sequined tube tops, and traded our flip flops for 5 inch stilettos. Or we looked hungover. ) I didn't make one remark, not one. Didn't even try to swing at them with my now useless arm. Slightly different atmosphere I guess. Not as worried about someone knifing me to death (fully aware "knifing me to death" is my own creation, not actual street terminology for stabbing) at the McDonald's on Antioch as I am a block and a half away from some of the freakin most dangerous low income housing in the country. Nonetheless, I think I may have made a huge step in not verbally assaulting those who objectify me and my friends. Well done brain to mouth interaction, nice to see you working for once in my life.

Lesson learned: Gang life isn't for me. It took so much energy not to lunge at or even give the evil eye to someone making completely inappropriate comments I will be tired for weeks. It is good to see that I am really making no progress in the grace category. Maybe gang life is for me. " Look at me like that again and I'll cut you." Yep, Sounds like me.

While in Chinatown I took to my usual bargaining strategies. (Spare me the lecture on how these people are poor and they need all the money I can give them because I am a rich legal citizen. I saw how many freaking bags they sold for about $35 each. Plus, I think they enjoy the bargaining just as much as I do.) I walk into one shop and ask how much a certain perfume was. "$35" the man said. It was the end of the day and I had $20 left. That's it $20. I am sure everyone reading this understands that I had how many dollars? That's right, $20. How many times did that take you to understand? Probably once, maybe twice if you are half asleep dreaming you were sleeping on one of your removed legs...oh wait you probably aren't as demented as I am. I start to walk away and tell him I only have $20. (I knew there was no way he would come down $15 in the price, I am good, I'm not that good.)
He says "for you $30"
I say "I only have $20."
He says "big bottle, $30."
I look at him with a "you have got to be kidding me" look and again say " I really only have $20"
he says " big bottle."
"Seriously man, $20. That's all I have."
I walk away. The screams of $30 and big bottle followed me as I left, and still haunt me 24 hours later.

Lesson learned: Walk away when the vendor says far over the price you are willing or able to pay, otherwise you are stuck in a conversation with a man whose knowledge of the English language is apparently limited to 35, 30, dollars, for you, big, and bottle. Oh the magnetic poetry that could be made with those glorious words. Wait "big for you bottle dollars 30" isn't good, or funny which is the whole point of magnetic poetry.