High and Low

The perils of modern life: Please enjoy this long not-published joyful anecdote about life in the Big City.

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Life in NYC is a series of swift, sweet highs and (sometimes) depressingly low lows. Or is that life? That probably applies to life in general.

BEHOLD:

The High:
Last night after work I took myself to get a laser facial. (Ho ho ho)

As an important aside: With t-minus 79 days to the wedding, I'm booking everything and anything that claims to impart a 24/7 post-coital glow. This was my second trip to Skin Laundry and you know what? It's pretty nice. I did an intro package for $150 but I will NOT be able to swing the full price weekly sessions they recommend. Does this merit a full post?

ANYWAY I skipped out, skin freshly laundered, radiating from that hurts-so-good zap. Was it the lasers shot at my brain? The misty, anticipatory electricity in the air? Whatever it was—I felt in sync with the city. So aliiiiive.

I did my usual muscling down onto the L platform and practically Hills Are Alive'd with happiness until the shiny silver carriage whisked me home, where I ordered delicious Thai food delivered to my bed while gleefully watching My Love From Another Star because GODDAMN this is New York City—The Big Apple!—baby. Amen!

The Low:
This morning I dutifully dragged myself off to Bar Method at 6:45 AM. The nice thing about early commuting is I can sometimes get a seat and, aside from the rogue dickhead construction worker, people usually leave me alone. Ohhh trololol not today.

As I waited to exit at Spring Street, the little old lady in front of me took a beat longer than usual to go through the door turnstile. So the lady behind me, rather than OH I DON'T KNOW, WAITING, decided to shove herself into my single person-sized turnstile cage wedge. Of course she didn't pull her purse through fast enough. Of course.

There we were, stuck like rats. In the few minutes we were trapped, I had time enough to do the following: 1. realize, with my un coffee-addled brain, that I couldn't extricate myself because this complete and total dumbass here, 2. softly and sadly say out loud to no one in particular, "well, we are trapped," 3. tell the rat bastard I couldn't "go back" as she was demanding, because the turnstiles don't let people INTO the subway for free, and 4. watch a good Samaritan tug the lady's purse out so I could go on my merry (not merry. NOT merry) way.

What a world. What. A. World.