Monday, November 9, 2009

{CONSULTING MY DRIVER FOR DIRECTIONS ON DRIVING}

About a year ago I was looking for the keys to my 1956 Mercedes 300SL Gullwing but they were nowhere to be found. So I made a cup of tea. Took a shower. Read the last two pages of a book called: how to find your car keys in as little as ten steps for $24.99 plus shipping and handling. I couldn't believe I got suckered again into buying some book that at the end of it asked you for money if you ever wanted to find your keys again. Blasphemy I say. So I swept and mopped the floor. Walked in circles around my apartment. Cleaned the windows. Folded some blankets. Cooked some scrambled eggs. Made some coffee. Drank some water. Still I could not find my car keys.

So then I went for a walk across Brooklyn. Bought an apple from a fruit vendor. Took a quick piss inside a pizza shop. Tied my shoe. Continued walking. I walked to Williamsburgh from Bushwick. The scenery changes immensely from these locations. You go from lots of trash blowing in the street to lot's of trash walking down it. The trash is more real in Bushwick though. It's a bit more authentic. Not to be judgemental or anything. I would never generalize a whole population of people; ever. Anyways, I still couldn't find my keys. It was really starting to get on my nerves. Where did I leave them? I walked into Beekmans Closet. Found a bitchin pair of pants for under twenty bucks and a sweet lumberjack looking flannel shirt that makes me look like a cowboy. I walk down to McCarren Park and sit on a bench. I watch everyone walk by. A lady walks by with a pig. A couple walks by talking about how AC/DC and Kiss were the best things ever to happen to rock and roll. A guy headbangs to Metallica Ride The Lightning on his walkman that is made for cassette tapes. People are drinking frozen margaritas. Other people are walking their dogs. Fixed gear bike gangs ride by. Skateboarders ride by doing various tricks that sound very loud.

Kids run far away from their mothers and fathers as their mothers and fathers try and catch up to them. I walk to Manhattan Ave in Greenpoint and get a cup of coffee and go to an art gallery. I see beautiful paintings. Everyone is posh. They use big words to describe the paintings and they talk about modern art versus decorative art versus the renaissance. Everyone drinks wine. Red wine. White wine. They all whine. Jeff broke up with me for some model that models for Ford. That's ok though his photography sucks anyways. Sarah left me for some douche who plays in a band and will be touring around the world for the rest of his life. Marc Jacobs new line looks like the last line and the line before that and you even have to wait in line now to get any of the new pieces of his new line. I get so caught up in everything else that has been happening since I left my apartment that I forgot I was looking for my keys to my car.

I forgot that I was going to go for a nice drive in the upstate and watch the leaves fall and see the beautiful colors that fall has to offer. This happens to me often in NYC. I set out to do one thing and then split off into a million directions and then forget what I originally set out to do in the first place. My brain has nothing good to say about anything around me. It's like a badly composed typewriter that just wants to listen to how everything sucks and how everything is this way and how everything is that way and the other way and I forget that I set out with one specific idea in mind. This disappoints the hell out of me for about two seconds. So I remember. I tell myself, ok so you forgot what you were doing? Big deal. That's pretty normal when you have a computer for a brain. I walk back out the door. Down Manhattan Avenue to Bedford. I run into Andrew riding his bike. I run into Alex, we argue for fun for a few minutes. I run in Hannah, we talk about how each other is doing. I run into Josh, he plays a prank on me. I run into Andre riding his bike, he gives me a big hug and a kiss. I run into Ame behind him, she does the same exact thing. I run into the guy who dresses like a clown who taught me how to dance in the street to the Beatles, we dance for a few minutes. I run into the lady who sells me socks for five bucks sometimes.

I run into this guy I forget his name but he always remembers mine. I walk into Oslo and get a coffee. Their coffee is the best, it's so rich and dark. Alex gives the best hugs from there, she has like the biggest heart in Oslo, Brooklyn. I run into Dana and give her a big hug and Yana is right behind her, I give her the biggest hug too. I walk down Broadway. The train makes loud noises. The sirens of the cop cars flying by taking over. I remember now that through all this damn thinking of everything, of looking for everything. NYC really loves me.

I end up back at home. The keys were on the table the whole time.