Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Country Mouse in the Big City

I work downtown. Like...REALLY downtown. In the last year that I have worked at that particular place, I have come to the realization that no matter how hard I try, I will never be a city girl. I can't do it. It causes me anxiety. I make fake phone calls to avoid talking to people, I walk around with my head in a book so I can pretend not to hear any comments directed my way.

Take, for instance, yesterday. In the short span of my one hour lunch break the city singlehandedly kicked my butt and made me want to curl up in a ball under my desk for a nice long nap.

I made a phone call to my mom as I was walking out of work, heading to the bank to get some much needed cash (I may or may not have forgotten my wallet). As we chatted I stood at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change and the little man to tell me I could walk. I heard a car beeping but figured it was just that, a car beeping. The light changed and I headed across. A large homeless man walked right up to me and said "Yo they beepin at you!" I shrugged and kept walking. Next thing I knew a veritable homeless choir was trying to inform me that someone was beeping at me.

I decided my stratedgy would be to pretend not to hear and continue walking.

The beeping continued.

The car rounded the corner and there was a young girl beeping her horn like crazy and frantically waving at me. I didn't know this chick at all, so I still kept trying to talk to my mother. By that time I had completely forgotten what we were discussing, so we said our goodbyes and I continued on my way to the bank.

I next passed three young Hispanic men. "Hola Mami!" they called as I walked past.

Sidenote - why "mami?" Anyone? Anyone??

I tried to pretend I didn't know they were talking to me, but to pass them I had to sidestep one and walk through the middle of the group. Do men know how threatening it is to NOT MOVE off the center of the sidewalk? Do they do this on purpose? Anyway...I kept walking.

One jogged to catch up with me. "Yo Mami" he said with a grin, "you registered to vote?"

Huh? I said yeah and kept walking...was that right? You may not remember but I am not always up to speed on innuendos.

I finally made it to the bank, made my withdrawal, turned around and saw...

...waving girl. Who stared right through me like that whole honking debacle didn't happen and attract 95% of the homeless population to direct their attention to me.

I ducked out, grabbed a quick lunch, and retreated to the safe haven of the lunch room and my book. I tell you...the city is giving me anxiety! It was all I could do to not curl up on the floor and suck my thumb.
Also, is that a police bread truck?


  1. It's either a bread truck, or, in between busting bad guys, they're selling delicious popsicles and frozen treats to neighborhood children!

  2. Ugh. I'm sure that girl thought she knew you and then realized that you weren't who she thought you were and tried to play it off all cool.

    But yeah walking around in the city is definitely not my cup of tea. It makes me want to retreat into the woods and never come out again.

    We had a saying when we would drive around Louisville- Don't Go Under a Bridge. B/c if you did, you were in BAD territory. In the country, all you have to watch out for are deer or horses!

  3. It's not a bread truck. It's one of those trucks you see at fairs. They serve funnel cakes and lemonade. I swear it.

  4. 1. STRATEGY. I know how to spell it I swear! Blogger wont let me back in to edit that and its driving me nuts!

    2. You are cracking me up with the different kinds of trucks you think it is...funnel cake, popsicles..too much! haha

  5. So what in the world were they all waving/honking at you for for goodness sake? I'm dying to know (I'm sure you are too).

    I'm with you on the big city. I live in the suburbs and love it (I don't care what everybody thinks). In fact last night I went down near hollywood and had dinner with a bunch of friends and there was even a celebrity sighting. But I couldn't help myself and wish that I was back home where it's quiet and I have a known place to park.

  6. Of course it is a police bread truck--where else would they put the bad bread? Really


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