So I'm starting this blog in an effort to purge some of my opinions and experiences as my so-called-life in New York hobbles on. When I moved here, I was not prepared for the level of aggression that some people exhibit. I didn't anticipate the homeless/jobless/bored/mentally ill men who stand on the sidewalks and mutter expletives and yell at you as you walk by. Most of the time, they are fairly easy to ignore, but the temptation to respond remains extremely strong for this Jersey girl. So the other day, I was on the subway, zoned out, when a man sat across from me. I wasn't looking at him, but could see him in the window reflection. He started talking to himself (a common phenomenon on the subway), then appeared to give me the finger. Then, he spat at me. No phlegm, and it didn't hit me, but still--THAT got my attention. I stood up and yelled at him and then realized he was a textbook NY nut job, going on about how I was trying to "execute his family" or some nonsense. We both got off the train and went upstairs where I called the police. He saw me on my phone, ran over to me and tried to grab it out of my hand. I yanked it back and . . . He hit me. Wow. Not hard, but enough. I pulled out my pepper spray and got him on the side of the face and coat. Then he took off. Police came, report filed, tears shed . . . I tell this story not because I want any pity, but because I realize that none of this would have happened had I just changed my seat and avoided the Subway Spitter. But I'm from Jersey, and it's not my nature to take shit from anybody. My friend advised me to "walk away from crazy." Good advice. But living here, with so many crazy people who just make people miserable because they have nothing better to do, walking away is sometimes easier said than done.
That's all for tonight . . . Thanks for reading! I'll be back soon!
Ciao for now!
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