Last night, as I walked out of my building and into the street, I was having a girl.in.the.city moment.
I have those a lot. They consist of me feeling Mary-Tyler-Moore-ish and all psyched about my urban lifestyle.
I never get around to throwing my hat though.
Probably because I’m always losing hats.
Anyway, in the middle of this pleased.as.punch second in time post work and pre-boarding the El, my feet went out from under me in front of a crowded bus stop, smack dab in the middle of Michigan Avenue.
Somehow, I caught myself before I fell flat on my face.
It wasn’t pretty.
Half of Chicago saw me.
I still like it here.
I meant to get up this morning and drag myself to the Y, but there is something about the combination of dark and pre-6:00 AM that makes it nearly impossible to do this two days in a row.
Which means I must brave the crowds post work.
Also, I’m down a membership card and a lock, all because I simply am not the kind of person who can keep it together.
The world needs some people like that, I’m reasoning.
We still need to run.
I ride the red line El with the same conductor every morning. I feel like I know him, even though I’ve never seen his face.
I realize this isn’t normal.
He always has words of wisdom (other than the standard “don’t board while the doors are closing.” Thanks.) for the commuters. He says things like “Be careful of the children and the senior citizens,” “Make sure you get some coffee,” “Have a good day out there” and my favorite nugget of advice,
“Good morning everyone. Do the best you can.”
Now, while this doesn’t make all the train riders turn to each other and break out into friendly banter, I have noticed that it significantly reduces the number of scowls.
It’s good advice.
I meant to tell you a lie, but I didn’t.
I hate liars.
I like you guys.
Have a good day chickadees.