Tip toe through the tulips…
Setting: A busy city street outside of the subway entrance. Two teachers walk the few blocks from the subway to work. 7:15 a.m.
I felt lucky because I ran into my girlfriend and co-worker on the subway today. It always makes the commute easier when I have someone to chat with…you, know the death march I usually hear playing inside my head gets somewhat muffled when I can walk with a friend. Although, to be fair, sometimes it’s not the death march but rather Gangster’s Paradise or even Ludacris’Runaway Love. On those days I feel all Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds and I strut down the street. But most days, let’s be real, it’s damn early.
As we step carefully over the discarded chicken bones and old hair extensions that litter the streets, we chat about what we did the night before. Now that I think about it, why don’t we ever question the chicken bones OR the hair extensions. I mean, that is not normal. Who is so desperate for a wing that they have to suck it down right there on the sidewalk and then throw it to the ground with a satisfied belch? Don’t get me wrong, I loves me a good buffalo wing BUT….I usually like to wolf them down while sitting in some fab bar with my big old beer all the while pretending that I’m really more into the veggies.
And the whole extension thing I can’t even begin to understand because 1. I don’t have them and 2. I do feel sorry for women with feminine balding. However, for some reason we step over all of this every morning without question as if we were tip toeing through the tulips or something.
BUT. Then today it all changed. We are about three blocks from school sipping on our hot bodega coffees when a plastic bag comes floating through the air. Initially, we ignore it, chalking it up to the charm of our surroundings. But then, as if it is possessed, the bag follows us and my girlfriend is forced to bat it out of her face. And that my friends, is one gnarly, very un-Michelle Pfeiffer way to start the day.