The Septimus Notes

Sunday, April 10, 2005

|Small Town, America in Big City, U.S.A.?|

On my way to the Hudson River Park, strapped down with Freud and a full stomach from brunch, I was cutting across the cobble-stoned streets of the clusterfuck of avenues at 14th and 9th. On 14th, just across from Jeffrey, I encountered what has to be the second oddest thing I've ever come across in this city (the first will be revealed to you in short measure).

The man walking in front of me was halted by two elderly women and an equally aged man. They were having trouble parallel parking their car. The fact that there were almost no cars at this point of 14th street (the strong urine smell and the trans-whores around the corner probably being a forceful deterrent for those in the know) with the exception of the cars anterior and posterior to the car of these septaugenarians only made the scene all the more queer. The woman in the car was just sitting there, bewildered as to what to do. The woman standing outside of the car, who had actually flagged down the young gentleman, was overheard by me to be saying this (and I can't even make this sort of thing up): "Would you mind getting behind the wheel and parking our car?"

I kid you not.

You'll fall out of your seat at what happened next. The man. The man who was clearly gaie. The man who was clearly gaie and walking with a brisk pace to suggest that he had somewhere to be (notwithstanding the fact that all New Yorkers have somewhere to be). The man who was clearly gaie and walking with a brisk pace to suggest that he had somewhere to be replied without hesitation, "Sure." The woman behind the wheel exited the vehicle and he took her place.

I did not stay long to see what happened next. But as I neared the Westside Highway, I did turn back to see if I could spy the conclusion of the episode. I could not see the man, but I could see the car, nicely edged up against the curb of the sidewalk, and the trio of a certain age walking off to who knows where.

Cut to two hours later (I love "cut to") and I've finished my Freud and am heading out of the park. Bound for Integral Yoga to buy some much needed granola, I'm traversing Bank Street when I see a pickup stalled at a green light. I have taken this moment to bask in the shade of the scaffolding, which is the only way I could have been privy to the next few moments at this traffic light. A man, probably in his 40's, not strikingly homosexual, wearing a hunter green t-shirt and blue jeans, walks up to the truck and says, "You folks look lost. Can I be of any assistance?"

At that point you couldn't get me out of the West Village quickly enough.

promulgated by SWS2.1 at 20:15.
0 comments

0 Comments: