So for lunch, I stepped outside to have a private conversation on my cell phone, because where else can I have a private chat in New York City but right out on the sidewalk where no one cares what I have to say as long as I stay out of the way? So I was loitering outside of Crane & Co.’s Fine Stationery, because it’s rude to go inside to such a quiet place and have a flirtatious conversation for everyone to hear.
But I was being flirtatious, so I was smiling a lot and licking my lips and teeth and getting myself worked up talking about the next time I get to see the certain someone on the other end of the line. Meanwhile, I did notice that a Big Apple double decker tour bus has pulled up beside me and I did hear the noise coming from the open air top level, but I did not pay attention, because, you see, I was lost in my conversation and am expert at tuning out the nonsensical noise of Midtown Manhattan.
It wasn’t until I playfully smacked my own ass that I heard an instant, deafening ROAR of excitement from the top of the bus that I noticed that I had an audience of about 20 college-aged men that were whooping and hollering, cheering me on, trying to get my attention and I had just pleased them in the most base sort of fashion without my intent. I half expected beads to come raining down on me. Just where did they think they were for Spring Break?
So I announced in a fake New York accent: “Can’t you see I’m having a conversation here? Your bus made a wrong turn somewhere, boys, ’cause this ain’t Mardi Gras.” And with that, they let out a collective, “Awwww,” and disappeared into the City looking for their next thrill. Sorry to disappoint, but my mind is made up.