a trip to the east village (lyn)

I’m meeting Jill for an early movie (The Bachelorette) and dinner.  It’s a gorgeous fall day, and I walk the 3.5 miles to the East Village theater where we are meeting.  I arrive sweaty, wishing I could take a quick shower, but City Village Cinema doesn’t offer one.

The line to buy tickets from a real person is long, but the line to buy tickets from a machine is short.  I wait a few minutes in the machine-line before realizing I have no credit cards on me.  I consciously left them home.  I need to re-think this as a money-saving strategy.

Jill and I eat at the same pizza place where I had dinner last Saturday night; it’s right across the street from the theater.  We each order individual pizzas, talk non-stop, and leave paying a total of $16 each, including tip.  A night out in NY doesn’t have to be expensive.

We still have more to say (we always do), so we walk another 10 blocks before splitting up to head home.  After Jill leaves, I walk still another 20 blocks before jumping on a bus.  The East Village is alive with people crowding the streets.  New restaurants and fashionable gelato bars have sprung up everywhere.  As I’m walking, a guy with skunk-colored hair walks up to me and asks, “Hey, can you tell me where I can find a dealer?”  I couldn’t tell if he were being serious, or mocking me for looking so conservative (in black Lululemon pants, a Cornell T-shirt, a jean jacket and running shoes).

I feel good about the five miles I walked, but not so good about the homemade ricotta olive oil ice-cream I’m about to eat.  It tastes so much better than it sounds.