Sometimes New Yorkers...

...take to the streets. Ok, not sometimes, all the time. This city is all about pedestrians. Cars are too much of a pain. Paying for a parking spot costs half as much as it does to rent a place which is still more than what you pay anywhere but NYC, plus car insurance, etc. The transit system is pretty darn reliable. It can take you just about anywhere though I don't particularly love traveling underground. Whatever. That's not the point. The point is, pedestrians are King...or Queen...for you feminists out there. Blah.

New Yorkers know how to walk in NYC. Crossing the street quickly, efficiently and whenever we want is something we take pride in. Tourists completely give themselves away by obeying the crosswalk while the rest of us New Yorkers like to stick it to the little white man and walk when we're not supposed to. We're like deer. We wait until we see the car coming and bolt across the street.

I hate when I actually have to wait to cross the street and I turn and there's a jogger jogging in place next to me. Really? Really rubbin' it in, aren't you? Is it actually helping or are you just saying, "Oh, look at me, I'm healthy. I like to jog. Woooo." Settle down, I get it, you're skinny.

Of course, me and skinny pants are both waiting to cross the street six feet into the road already, forcing the cars to go around us. It's like Frogger in reverse. We go and the cars swerve. My favorite pedestrian move, and we all do this, is when a car is coming and we stick our hand up in the air like we're a friggin' Jedi or Superman or something. As if our hand has the power to put up an impenetrable force field that will stop the cab that is racing to get through the light and we've already decided their time is up and it's our turn to cross. It's a casual hand. Raised just high enough to catch the front bumper of the car before it hits us and high enough to infuriate every driver on the road.

Cars and taxis are one thing. They could hit you. But buses and bikes WILL hit you. Honestly, sometimes I think buses are actually looking for people to run over. And bikes, well, don't underestimate the power of the bike. And the power of a pedestrian who gets hit by a bike. Why? One day, I was sitting in a restaurant, eating, enjoying my meal, minding my own business when I look out the window and see a woman get hit by a bike. She and the cyclist both fell to the ground. The biker immediately got up, hopped back on his bike and tried to leave. The pedestrian jumped up, chased after the bike, caught up, pushed him over, sat on his bike and refused to move until the police and ambulance arrived. Of course, when the ambulance arrived, the woman totally milked it. Please, she wasn't hurt. But come on biker, hit and run? Someones an illegal alien.

As you all know, I'm from Utah. There are no pedestrians where I'm from except for one crazy homeless man that hangs out on various corners around the city. When I was a kid, I assumed everyone on the street was homeless. When I moved to NYC, I thought, man, there are a lot of homeless people here. Of course, I quickly realized that although most people might look a little dirty, rough around the edges and often times smell like BO, that's actually just the New York way of life. It toughens you up and leaves you with a city stank. I've actually been mistaken for a homeless person once. For realz. I already blogged about it so I'll spare you the details again but if you must know, click here. And as for the city stink, I recently visited Utah and when my niece walked in the door of my house, she said, "It smells like Jenna!" The stink is real...or my niece is a vampire.

Oh NYC, I've come to terms with the fact that I am yours and you are mine even though you smell like a homeless butt and I'm probably going leave this world like a squished bug on a windshield.

Love,
Jenna