The Cons of Living in Park Slope:
After taking the above photos while coming home from Prospect Park via Garfield st., I decided it was way too nice to stay at home, despite having a quite a bit of work to do. There’s a little community garden a block from house, so I did the right, wanna-be-young-intellectual thing and took my little moleskin and my Lincoln Center playbill and tried to write from a “pristine” park bench.
But, alas, this community garden is in Park Slope. And that means screaming children. They were semi-bearable. Until they came for me…
Me: Um. Uh…
Little Girl 1: I said, ‘ARE YOU A KID?’
Me: Why are you asking me that?
Little Girl 2: Well, we you came in, we looked at you, and we wondering….
Little Girl 1: Listen. How old are you?
Little Girl 2: Oh. She’s a mom.
Me [loud, indignant]: I’m not a mom!!
The kids took a step back and looked each other with devilish embarrassment, before running away. Even after they were gone, concentration was tough. The only words I could hear in my head were, “I’m not a mom.” On the upside, the drone made it even easier to tune out the shrieking.
Not so for the girl reading at nearby table with her dog and boyfriend. On her way out she turned to me and said, “So much for a quiet garden! I couldn’t take it anymore!”
“I know!” I concurred, and then, grateful for sounding board, relayed my awful story. She cringed. “Oh no! I’m 26, too!”
I was on a roll. “Yeah! And if by ‘not a mom’ you mean ‘failure!’ Obviously they’ve been talking to my grandmother.” But instead of laughing, a look overwhelming pity flooded the girl’s face. “Ohhh. I’m sorry!”
Not the desired reaction. I wanted to defend myself, to blurt out, “I was joking! My grandmother loves that I’m incapable of starting a family or even engaging in healthy emotional attachment! The bad date stories are the only thing that keeps her going through her old age!”
But she wished me good luck, took her dog home and left her boyfriend in the not-quiet garden. And there I was, a Park Slope Disaster: No Baby, No Boyfriend, No Dog. (I did have some carrots with me, but I’m pretty sure that since they weren’t purchased at the Co-Op, that’s also a #ParkSlopeFail.)
But it got me thinking. Maybe it’s time. I don’t know if it’s the fact that Spring is here, that I’m ready for a change, that the whole world is in Chaos and going at it solo for the sake of pride doesn’t seem worth it anymore.
I think I’m ready for a dog.