EN WHY CEE

Current Mood: Excited :D

So here I sit, in front of Trump Tower, ogling my future home. The city of lights, the big apple, New York City. It's something I would never have imagined in my wildest dreams, but here I am.

The trip here was particularly entertaining. Not the whole airplane deal, but getting here from the airport. I decided that taking a taxi would be a waste of my limited spending money, so I decided to simply take the bus. I knew I had a few dollars left on my bus/train card, and thank G-d I brought it. I hopped on the train and quickly met a nice African man that helped me find my destination. He simply said, “Follow me,” and I did.

We were on the M60 bus, traveling from La Guardia all the way to Harlem, which is quite possibly one of the most entertaining places in the city. To me, it was a bustling thoroughfare of relaxed (and sometimes rigid) respect where every interaction is a match of wits and a game of the mind. The look in the man's face told me a lot about the area that we were in. It said, “If you know what's good for you, you'll remain chill. Don't fuck with anyone, and you won't get fucked with. If conversation does begin, act chill, be yourself.”

The people on the bus were hardened by their work, and seemed to love every minute of the commute home, to poverty or riches-- whatever the case, they were jolly. People laughed, people sang. But then, there was a disturbance.

A grim looking man came in and surveyed the crowded bus. We were already placed like Tetris blocks, with spaces few and far between in the crowd. He must have been that perfect piece, in an ironic sort of way, because when he came on, he exploded. He accosted the woman next to him, accusing her of a most dastardly act-- touching him.

He stood there, shouting obscenities and speaking quite poorly about her, taking every advantage to show his dominance in the situation. He continued to berate the woman for quite some time, and she began to fan her hand at him, a lame attempt to make him stop. This did nothing but add fuel to his fire. This is when the true extent of his tirade surfaced. He was quite witty indeed, naming all of her flaws and establishing that if she wanted to act “tough and gangster” around him, she should only expect the same. Luckily, the man's stop came soon, and he mumbled and muttered to himself as he dismounted the bus.

At this point, we were getting deep into Harlem, and the streets began to fill with wonder. Shop signs advertising solutions for the world's problems lined the sidewalks, inviting any and all onlookers, to come and do business with them. Men and women in their traditional garb discussed who know what as they mingled atop the asphalt. Car horns, voice, music, and even the steps of the people filled the air to create the symphony that flooded my ears. At that point, I thought to myself, this is my home.

My friends have just arrived to pick me up, and we're in the mood to have some fun tonight. I will report on this fun and more on my next checkup. Until then, peace(maker).

Listening to: Harlem.