4.3 Time Moves Forward

NATURAL DISASTERS

I was sitting in S███’s office when the shaking started, and  S███ was eating lunch in the kitchen. We discussed what it could be: not, it became clear, the neighbors walking up the stairs. A crane across the way might have been the culprit, except there is no reason for a crane to cause the building to sway (I think I made a wrecking ball joke). I looked out the window, but people on the street seemed to be walking along normally, though S███ said she spotted a man sitting on a stoop looking confused. It was all very surreal (I was under the impression that earthquakes just don’t happen in New York). Not until S███’s father sent her an “Are you okay, there was an earthquake” text did we have an answer, though if he had waited 30 more seconds I would have seen it on my work Twitter account (which was blowing up, Ke$ha-style).

The office. Luckily it was a minor earthquake, or I would have been crushed by a tub of power tools. If there was a God who loved humanity, He would have caused an earthquake strong enough to toss Tavin (bottom center) out of the window and in front of a Mack truck while sparing all other living beings.

It happens that I grew up on the Alabama coast, so I have lost the fear of God with regard to hurricanes. Irene was a bummer because they closed public transportation about 16 hours in advance of the hurricane, thus preventing me from going to the party that was one of the main reasons for my visit to New York in the first place. It happened during the night: mainly a lot of wind and rain. There was some minor flooding nearby and uprooted trees blocking roads toward the Park Slope area. It so happens that Sara’s neighborhood was not a flood risk, but even if it was, I would not have left.

ALSO, DAVE & BUSTERS IN TIMES SQUARE

Late that Thursday, S███ dragged me to the Dave & Buster’s in Times Square that is open past midnight. Dave & Buster’s is an adult-oriented arcade space that sells $10 Bud Lights. It is located a floor above the infamous Times Square Applebee’s. To annoy her I kept saying things like, “Is that the Empire State Building?” and “Is this Times Square?” in exactly the tone and volume an actual curious tourist would use. We spent all our tickets on Wonka candy. Afterward she dragged me to the Forever 21 that is open past midnight in Times Square. There were some French women there, one of whom was wearing white canvas shoes.

WHAT AM I READING RIGHT NOW?

Well, since you asked, I am on a huge Kenzaburo Oe kick. Oh man, also, have any of you read The Master and Margarita? It was so good. I wasn’t expecting it to be so good.

THE BIKE LOCK SAGA

Don’t get me started; don’t even get me started! I locked my super-rad orange road bike (you know, whatever) at a parking meter outside of Starbucks, where I was meeting So███ so we could work together (we both “work from home”). Once the day was done, I went back to my bike, only to discover that I didn’t have my keys in any of my four pants pockets, two jacket pockets, or five backpack compartments. I retraced my steps with So███: Starbucks, Chipotle, CVS, but was unable to find what I was searching for. In the Chipotle a solicitous individual volunteered his girlfriend’s (?) bike keys. Apparently, U-locks are so generic that you can often use random keys to unlock one. I tried, and in fact the woman’s key opened one of my locks. Unfortunately, I always use two, which meant my bike was still locked to the meter.

After a grumpy weekend of me idly wondering if I could borrow an angle grinder or perhaps use a two-by-four to pop the lock, I google “how to break a u lock” and discover a video showing a guy popping a lock in two minutes using a car jack. I’m sitting across from So███ when I learn about this, so I lean forward and ask her if she has a car jack I can borrow. She texts A███, and he drives over to pick her up and brings the jack. I expect the operation to take ten minutes, but it does not. In fact, the jack gets stuck on the lock, and it takes me maybe fifteen minutes of peeling away the lock’s rubber coating to free it. A███ and So███ leave while I keep trying. There are two American Red Cross canvassers on the sidewalk, and I listen to them pitching the whole time I try to pop my lock. Whenever there were joggers, the canvassers would say, “What are you running from?!” which I thought was kind of funny. The female canvasser was friendly to me: whenever I pried the car jack off, she would say, “Did you get it!!??” and I’d be like, “Ha, ha!! No. Oh my God, close though.”

After an hour of laboring clumsily over a car jack on a bike that keeps rolling around, one starts to feel like a right fool.

Christ Bananas, the effort this production took.

Finally, it happens. The lock comes off. Unfortunately, I rendered the front derailleur janky in the process of wrestling with the bike lock. So I walked my bike to a bike shop. I was very anxious, because I was wearing a particularly appropriated-bike-culture outfit (slim-fit jean shorts rolled just so at the cuffs, Brooklyn Industries polo shirt, Adidas Sambas with no socks), and was afraid the bike shop guys would hurt my feelings. But they were friendly enough, and fixed the front derailleur for free (it had only been knocked askew). Unfortunately, I also had somehow messed up the chain wheel in a way that would “run [me] about $100 to fix.” So from now on, I can only use the smaller front gear. Anyway.

On the bright side, looking for my spare bike keys, I found my long-lost eyeglasses rolled up in an air mattress.

HOW DID I GET SO BAD

 A█████ texts me and I say I’ll be there soon but I end up watching internet videos for half an hour before leaving. When I arrive, he is doing some bike maintenance. I sit there being empty-headed for a while. Av███ comes and sits next to me, but then he goes off somewhere. Later A█████ and I are grocery shopping. I pick up a tin of anchovies and say, “Anchovies are so expensive,” and he says, “Just put it in your pocket.”

Later, we walk to the pond and stash our stuff by the boathouse. I throw my wallet into a bush. A█████ says, “You just had to bring swim shorts that look like boxers.” When we get to the beach, there are some people there, but we figure they won’t care. The water is cold, but not so cold, and we walk in slowly until the water is navel height and then plunge in. The only building visible above the trees has most of its windows lit, and we swim in its direction, instead of directly toward the boathouse. I am an extremely weak swimmer and pretty much spend the entire time gasping and doggy-paddling. A█████ says, “Do you know the breast-stroke?” and I say, “I only know how to freestyle. But I have my contacts in.”

NEVER HAVE I FELT SO AMERICAN

J███ and Ar████ are going to IKEA, so I hitch a ride. We enter gridlock, and finally decide we have to stop and eat. We consult the telephone to see if there are any Chik-Fil-As around, but they are all either north or west of Boston Proper. We end up going to a Chipotle in an outlet mall. We talk about Chipotle: how it’s too bad David Foster Wallace passed, because now he can’t write an essay about eating Chipotle burritos in an outlet mall. I get a red chest of drawers and a black bookcase. When I tell S███ that I got a red chest of drawers, she says that that’s what men do: they get red things for their bedrooms, because they think that things in bedrooms should be red. They just don’t know any better.

WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE

I’m going to get what I want.