New York blues

The view from my house yesterday

If you’re in a bad mood in New York the best thing to do (if possible) is to stay indoors. Don’t go to the shops, don’t buy coffee, don’t get on public transport or walk on crowded pavements. Don’t even check email. Wear a helmet. There’s something strangely responsive about this city, as if it senses your troubles and chooses not to help, deciding instead to hurl irritations, hindrances and crazy people in your way. On a good day the sun shines and people will be astonishingly nice, but if you’re having a difficult time the environment easily becomes hostile. And, to be frank, bad things may happen.

Last Thursday was a case in point. In the morning I attended an MTA appeal. After going through a three-hour process, I was given the maximum fine. A few hours later, as I cycled tired and annoyed along a street near my home, my bike hit a pothole and I flew over the handlebars, landing on my left elbow.

Within two hours of my bike accident I had inadvertently managed to offend a friend’s friend. He was extremely angry with me and I was angry back. We have resolved the matter, but the offense was as unintentional as my bike accident, and it seemed odd: I truly didn’t mean to stir up trouble.

All that took its toll. This week I’ve felt as if the whole city has been fighting with me, and my misery only seemed to attract more of the same; or as a rather more expressive writer once put it, ‘when sorrows come, they come not as single spies, but in battalions.’ Things have kept going wrong. On Monday I waited for the subway, huddling towards the upper end of the platform away from other people, but when the train arrived, the conductor yelled, ‘First three carriages are not in use!’ Cradling my coffee I stepped toward carriage four, only to see the subway doors close, as the train pulled off.  The conductor could have waited for me, he just didn’t. (It’s also true that I didn’t smile at him when he made his announcement, when normally I would have).

My computer started to play up and went into ‘Panic’ mode without my asking; Google refused to work, linking instead to a weird Wiki page full of meaningless text. But Tuesday was the nadir of my New York blues. I was walking down the street to a coffee shop near my house when a woman approached me. Something in her step put me off, and I wondered if she would be mad, or hostile. I didn’t have to wonder long. She walked towards me and thrust her face at mine and said in a tone that was almost sane, ‘I am everything. You are nothing! I am everything. You are nothing!’ I was scared. I ducked and ran away from her, across the quiet street. Yet she’d got something right: she had articulated, succinctly, aggressively and in a way that was fittingly unhinged, the world’s hostility.

After that, and after I spoke to a friend, things gradually improved. Today even Google has cooperated, miraculously righting itself without intervention from the ‘Genius’ men at Apple (perhaps the weirdness had to do with this). Still, it has rained all day — see the pic above.

*******

One day on, we are on good terms again — the city seems back to its magical self. On the subway this morning, a man smiled and gave me his seat. ‘Your bag looks heavy,’ he said, as he thought up a beautiful image: ‘What are you carrying? Golden bricks?’

The door leading up to my roof

Advertisements
Comments
3 Responses to “New York blues”
  1. Glad things have improved. Golden bricks: I like it …

  2. Colleen Newvine Tebeau says:

    I believe it’s true — New York tests you, and she knows what your weakness is.
    It’s like hazing. She doesn’t want people living in her city if they can’t pass her tests.
    But, as you say, she can also be magical. When you’re in sync with New York, absurdly good things with no logical basis can just happen.
    I’m glad the black cloud blew over and you’re back on the path to magic.

  3. Frieda says:

    That’s perceptive Colleen. I hope I am on the path to magic! And you too (if you’re not already there).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Archives

%d bloggers like this: