The King

A few years ago I was on a quest to travel the world- well at least 50 countries, but a new “king” arrive, without notice. He demanded to be crowned, Corona, and then set up a no travel rule. No one dared disobey him.

My travels were furloughed for a few years and I went back to work with nothing else to occupy my time. Then just when I thought he would lighten up on the “no travel rule” he insisted on bring in more family members, Delta and Omicron.  I decided to put on three layers of armor (vaccines) and carry a sword (a mask and sanitizer) and risk traveling.   

It is 08:20 AM and the bar stools at “Vino Fiesta Bar” are almost full, minus two empty ones. I note that many of the patrons have what I have medically named ”wiggle leg syndrome” where your foot or leg moves constantly up and down or side to side indicating a bit of anxiety.  

I take a seat at my gate and pass a young man perhaps 18, clean shaven with not much facial hair and rosy pink cheeks. He is on his phone, of course, and is wearing what appears to be a pilot’s uniform and the proper identification around his neck on a lanyard.

I half joke and ask with just a hint of sarcasm“Are you the pilot who is flying me to NYC today?”  He sits up straighter and smiles and says “Yes, I am.”   It is hard to miss the sudden drop in my smile and look of shock.  I quickly recover and say  “ Please excuse me, as you can see I am an older person and everyone looks so young to me.”

  “I get that a lot” he replies  “but I can assure you I have a lot of flying experience.”

 I smile my best smile and utter with some confidence in my voice “Great, I am sure you do.  Can I ask how old you are?”  He smiles and proudly announces he is 27.

I give my best approval face and nod my head as if say to say Wow 27.  But I am thinking, seriously 27, unless you have been flying since you were 7, which would give you a good 20 years of experience, it is not what I consider “ A lot of experience! “

I smile, get up and quickly head back to the “Vino Fiesta Bar” hoping that the empty seat is still available.  I think I am going to need a drink before getting on this plane.

I know it is corny, but “I -heart- NYC”, I do. What is not to love? The energy, the people, the NY bagels, the Italian neighborhoods with the best Italian food, hearing 5 different languages being spoken while standing in line for a great coffee, the guys playing plastic tub drums in the subways, museums, Central Park – I could go on and on. 

My daughter and I get on the subway to go to a Manhattan deli for what she states are the best bagels in NYC. And the NYC rules begin.  I swipe my subway pass and nothing happens,the turn rod does not move.  “ Too slow” she says  “ you have to swipe fast.”  I do, still no luck , “Faster”  she yells and grabs the card and shows me how to swipe.

Then as we head down side by side she says ”Single line Mom, get behind me, some one is trying to pass.” Later when I ask her how she knows this, she tells me I have to be more aware of my surrounding in NYC.  

When we arrive to the bagel shop we order the most amazing bagels with thick cream cheese, lox, and capers. We take a seat outside and eat and I am enjoying taking in the people passing in by.

”Mom, stop staring at people.” She scolds.  I defensively reply “I am not staring; I am people watching.”  Then I receive a lesson on the proper way to people watching in NYC .   Geez so many NY rules.

The next day we go out and I asked if I am dressed OK for the trip out.  She reminds that it is NYC no one cares, you can wear anything, high fashion or low fashion, it does not matter.  I could wear red leather shorts, with purple knee socks, orange high heels and a pink fake fur jacket and no one would look twice. I know this is true because someone like that just passed us and no one looked twice, well except me, but remember I am people watching not staring.

Sculpture Museum