Walking in the Slime

Returning from teaching dance class early Sunday evening, I docked my Citibike at the park near home. A large group of people were celebrating an anniversary, barbecuing, playing games, hanging out, and enjoying the sunset.

Safely docked, I raised the volume on my headset, pulled my big-bag-o-hipscarves out of the bike basket, and hoofed off to the local CVS.

"Wahh eee aaa waa wayy??!"

A man sitting in a mobility scooter shot me a look as I passed by. "Huh?" I asked, realizing he was talking to me.

"Is that your baby??" he said.

I turned off the sound on my podcast.

"What???" I asked.

"TAKE those things OUT of your ears when I'm talking to you!" he enunciated.

"I can hear you fine, sir," I said, not touching my earbuds.

"I said, is that your baby??!"

"What???" I asked again, starting to worry. What does he mean by "my baby"??? Did I drop something? I run back to the bike to see if I've left my bag in the basket. It takes nearly a minute of frantic confusion to realize that yes, the damned thing is on my shoulder right where it belongs.

So what is this guy talking about??

I walk back to him.

"What do you mean, 'my baby'??" I look at his friend, standing nearby. He shrugs.

"I saw a child running around," the guy says, "and thought it was yours."

I look around. There are kids running everywhere.

"Ummm.... why ... what???" Now I'm completely baffled.

"YOU are Walking in the Blind," he declares.

"Excuse me??"

"Do you know what that means, 'Walking in the Blind'?"

"Um... I can guess--"

"It means walking around completely unaware. You got that headset on and you can't hear what's going on around you!"

"Well ..uh, wouldn't that be 'Walking in the Deaf'?" I grin at his friend, who hides a smirk.

"You can't be walking around like that, not knowing what's going on around you!" he decrees again, and then repeats roughly this same sentence three or four times.

Finally, I pull the plug.

"OK. Well thank you for your concern!" I chirp and head off.

Over the next block, I started to shake a little. What the fuck was that???

I go over the particulars:

He'd said, "Is that your baby", claiming he believed that one of the kids near the dock was mine. But I had just docked the bike. How could I possibly have had a kid with me??

And even if he hadn't seen me slamming the bike into place, he surely had been at this event for hours. Wouldn't he have known I wasn't one of the participants? And even if a random adult and child had just wandered to the area, I was walking away with direction and purpose -- not quite something a parent with a child would do!!

So again:  What the fuck was that????

Answer:  It was stealthy street harassment.

Like every woman in New York, I'm used to guys hitting on me, or just making comments to me and about me -- basically taking a bite out of me as I walk by. And I know how to handle it; I brush it off, or don't let it in to begin with.

But this.... this was different.

This was criticism disguised as concern, a hit intended to harm for the sake of causing harm. Remember, street harassment isn't about sexual desire; it's about diminishing women to feed the harasser's ego.

And this.... this was as much a bite as any lowlife slapping my ass

Because he seemed to be saying something important .... I let my guard down. I let myself engage with this jerk. I gave him my attention and let him feed when I should have walked by.

And it took a toll on me, to the degree I needed to unpack it, sift through it, and write about it the next day ... still wondering why I feel unsettled by it.

Part of me wishes I'd figured it out sooner; that I'd given him my best Sherlock and enunciated at him the way he did at me; that it was clear he was full of shit and looking to feed off a passing woman like every slimebag in this fucking city.

But then I figure maybe it was better to laugh it off, as I did. "Thanking" him for his "concern" and blithely walking on.

For many years I've felt strongly that it's important to stand up to bullies--those who harm others so they can feel good about themselves. If we can just diminish those good feelings just enough ... just enough ... maybe we make the world a bit safer for the next vulnerable person.

Sure, sometimes a sock in the nose is just what the doctor ordered. But in this case maybe laughter really was the best medicine.

Just Another Ordinary Saturday

NOT!!

Between my various travels and performances, I have been slacking off in my duties to my rockin' sailing club, TASCA.



I joined them back in 2003 and became an instructor last year. The club is a non-profit group that offers very inexpensive sailing lessons ($275 for a 7-week course), and an opportunity to join the club upon completion for the hefty sum of $40 per year (yes, per year!).

Why so inexpensive? Because members are encouraged to hone their skills through volunteering to teach.

Although they offer classes during the weekday evenings, my work and class schedule prevents me from teaching then, so that leaves the Saturday classes: On the water from 10am to 1pm.

And because I just can't handle the weekend subway mess, I usually bike the 10 miles there and back on my snazzy Dahon folding bike.



Normally, that's enough to make a full Saturday. BUT NOT FOR ME!

Today I only had one student (who did very well, by the way), so it was easy to quickly review the day's lesson on dry land with her (shown here with her completed lesson sheet)...



... and hop back on my trusty bike to speed another six miles in the opposite direction towards the Hollis Queens Public Library, for, yes, a BELLYDANCE SHOW!

I've been studying privately with the fabulous Shoshana, who booked me to dance with her students a few weeks before. I knew I'd be teaching that morning, so another another TASCA member was going to drive me to the dance show, but that fell through.

So, I embraced the extra cardio!!!

And then I danced!!

Not surprisingly, Shoshana's students were amazingly good. One in particular, Safinaz -- who had only been studying for about six months -- gave a stunning performance of her own choreography.

Afterwards, Shoshana kindly packed my folded Dahon into her trunk and drove me part of the way home down the treacherous Hillside Avenue, and I completed the entire seven-mile length of Myrtle Avenue on my own.

EMBRACE THE CARDIO!!

Exhausted and butt-sore, I got home around 5pm.

Time to relax? Oh, no no no. Not me.

My dear friend Lourdes was holding a special "surprise" party waaaaay up in the Bronx. The surprise, according to her evite, was to be on her guests.

With equal parts trust and trepidation, I cleaned up, dressed up and trundled out again.

Hungry and cranky, I arrived nearly 2 hours late -- and everyone was waiting for me. :-P

Lourdes asked me to write two adjectives and two nouns on separate pieces of paper and drop them into their respective fishbowls. Just to be a punk, I threw "eponymous" into the adjective bowl.

Across from the food table sat four covered boxes, and a few feet from that were some art supplies... and then I realized my mistake.

The game was a sort of cross between Mad Libs and Pictionary: Two contestants pick an adjective and noun, and then paint it.



Everyone else votes for a "winner." But regardless of who "won," both people pick a prize blind from the boxes.

I got "whimsical ring," so I drew a cell phone playing an "Istanbul" ring tone. No one got it. My opponent drew something that looked like a puddle having a nervous breakdown.

Everyone loved it.

Then we went onto the second Pictionary-esque part where one person draws a noun-adjective combination and the group guesses.

One person got "enlightened bubbles" and drew Buddha with a soap-hookah.



And then it was Stacey's turn...



She fished out her charge and ran into the back room with Lourdes. Thirty seconds later: "CAAAAROL!!!!"

I gave her a more drawable word: incandescent.

Kisha got it and picked out Naughty Naughty Party Games.*



I picked out the Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure.



How appropriate!!


_______
*Actually, she didn't win the Naughty, Naughty Party Games... I did. I just happen to have that picture of her opening it. I also won The Book Lovers Kit. I don't remember what Kisha won. I was really, really, really tired that night!!