NY Hurts - Part II

It was 2 p.m. The rain was trickling down but the dark, looming clouds had faded. A text came through.

"Where the heck are you? I'm at that Becket Berry place." The text screamed.

She charged forward through the throngs of people. There was her friend outfitted in gold lame flats, black silk shorts and a white t-shirt.

"Why do you never respond to voicemail or text messages?" Her friend said with puckered lips and a slightly whining tone.

She breathed in and prepared to answer in her sorriest tone. "I'm soo sorry. I just got free chocolate." She explained.

"Ok, first of all, you aren't sorry at all and that's okay. Secondly, where did you get the chocolate?" She squealed.

"Oh my God, I got it at this place called L.A. Burdick Chocolate. It's in the flatiron district." She explained proudly. "And it was the owner who gave it to me." She jumped a little.

"O. M. G.! How cool is that. You should totally write a blog about how to get free stuff because you're always getting free stuff." Her stuff her friend began.

"It's so weird. People don't say Oh my God anymore. They say O.- M.- G. or L.- O.- L. Should I be doing that?" She asked.

"Who cares! Seriously, you should really write a blog about getting free stuff." She urged again.

"Nah. Bloggers are becoming the waitresses of the writing world." She started.

She raised an eyebrow, tilted her head and pursed her lips.

"Yea, no. I'm dead serious. You know what I mean, when an actress can't land a movie part, she waits tables. If you want to act, act. Don't wait tables. If you want to write, then get something published. I suck as a writer, so I'm not going to blog."

"You're nuts. You're just nuts." She said with a laugh.

The old man in the overalls who presided over the Berkshire Berries table chuckled.

"So, where shall we go my dear?" She asked as she grabbed her arm.

"To SoHo, Jamie" She exclaimed.

They skipped off like two children through the streets and into the cobbled section of SoHo. As they walked on the cobbled street, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Aren't these buildings gorgeous?" She said dreamily.

"They're old." Jamie responded.

"Why did I wear cute shoes? Hold on, let's sit on that step. My feet are killing me." Jamie winced and then limped to a store stoop. She plunked down right as someone was exiting the store.

"Watch where you sit." The angry shopper growled.

"Oh get a life!" Jamie responded as she ripped off her shoe. Her heel was stained red.

"Oh gosh, that's really gross." She said as she sat down. They were now completely blocking the entrance of the store.

"What in heck am I going to do!?!" Jamie whined.

"I told you not to wear cute shoes, for crying out loud!" She said with a pout.

"Excuse me!" A pregnant women urged as she exited the store.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Jamie, we're blocking the steps." She said. They both roared with laughter as they left the stoop.

"I'm hating SoHo. And why are all these kids here? I gotta google the nearest Duane Reed." Jamie said.

They began walking.

"I wonder where Rachel Ashwell's Shabby Chic is..." She started.

"Isn't that at Target?" Jamie asked.

"No!!! I'm talking about the REAL Shabby Chic store." She explained.

It was as if they were nearing a mirage. "There it is." She pointed. They had inadvertently walked right towards the store and were now just steps away.

Once inside the store, they were transported away from squawking sirens, throngs of people and the co-mingling of roasted nuts and body odor. Inside the store was an oasis of Easter egg colors, white washed furniture and chubby couches stuffed to the brim with down.

Jamie took a deep breath and then sunk into a white chair with a pale pink flower motif. Meanwhile, she traipsed through the store and glanced sideways, then up and down.

She moved back towards Jamie and leaned in towards her ear. "I have to pee." She said in a whisper.

Jamie got up and headed towards the sales clerk speaking with a young couple ordering a sofa. "Excuse me" She interrupted.

The sales clerk politely looked up.

"Do you happen to know where the loo is?" Jamie inquired.

"Absolutely. It's downstairs, to the right and in the back...once you pass the bed." The sales clerk smiled serenely.

"Who the heck says loo?" She asked.

"I do!" Jamie responded.

They headed downstairs. She halted. There was the bed she had been dreaming of! It was a white washed four poster bed. Above it a linen parachute was artfully draped in mock canopy fashion.

"Wow! I can do that. I can probably find a parachute on ebay!" She declared happily before locating the bathroom.

The bathroom was scented with a candle housed in a vintage crystal hurricane vase. A gentle stream of rose circled through the small room.

Eventually, after having tried all the sofas and chairs, they headed to out the store and out of SoHo.

"A Duane Reed!" Jamie shouted as she ran across the street.

The electric doors parted like the dead sea in The Ten Commandments. Jamie raced towards the back of the store, grabbed the first package of band aids she could find and headed for the line at the register. Eagerly, she ripped open the box and grabbed a band aid. While she waited in line, she bandaged her bleeding foot. No one in line seemed to notice.

Then, they headed uptown to Beyoglu.

Comments