Evens and Odds

The other day I was walking across town when a woman in a pinstripe powersuit sprinted past me. I began to make fun of her and the fact that she was probably late to something important when the oddest thing happened. Without warning, she stopped mid-sprint, turned 180 degrees and started to slowly walk back in my direction. As she passed by me…again…I tried to avoid the now awkward eye contact and wondered: where was she going in such a rush? What made her change her mind? Why was she less desperate to come back? Maybe she was heading to an apartment or bar that was on a different street. Maybe she was running towards the man of her dreams when she realized he was a figment of her imagination. Or maybe she just HAS to run west for exactly 1/10th of a mile every day otherwise terrible things will happen.

While I will never know the mysteries behind her actions, I do know this woman is not alone. People in New York City (not so) occasionally exhibit odd behavior.

Pinkberry has single-handedly changed the way people eat yogurt. It has convinced everyone that if plain yogurt is really, really cold, it’s a healthy dessert. Absent the numerous sugar-filled, cereal-related toppings you can load onto it. And ignoring the long list of chemical ingredients added to make the dessert taste “natural.” (Note: besides “plain” it also offers coffee and green tea. Green tea...really? Name one person that likes that.) On the heels of Pinkberry came additional franchises from Red Mango, Yolato and Flurt. But what is amazing is not the number of “Tastee-Delight’s” that are now forced into foreclosure, but Pinkberry’s ability to flourish in New York City’s seasonal climate. In the middle of January, while fighting the “wintry mix” of snow, rain and ice, people line up...outside...in their UGGs…just to get a cup of this tasty treat. Thirteen degree weather must make one crave chemical additives in coffee flavored yogurt topped with Captain Crunch. You know, for $3 less you can mix some cereal in cold Dannon while drinking a hot Dunkin Doughnuts coffee and viola, fro-yo. (Patent pending!) But I’m just bitter because I miss the gluttony of Cold Stone.

It is no secret that New York City “leans left” when it comes to politics; in fact, the city is so blue, it’s turning purple. Residents are well-versed in the language of multiculturalism because the city went XTREME on the whole “melting pot” concept. Which I love because Dinosaur Bar-B-Que in Harlem has the best ribs, Kossar’s in the lower east side has the best bialy’s, G Lounge in Chelsea has the best frozen cosmopolitans and Biny’s outside of Chinatown has the best karaoke. However, our high level of tolerance has opened doors for the overzealous to panhandle their religion to passer-byers. I’ve been forced to take brochures on the subway, been accosted on the street and been distracted by the Mitzvah Mobile. Don’t get me wrong, I greatly respect and appreciate all religions and one’s right to practice. But in Rome, nuns didn’t approach me about the date of my last confession. I’ve try to adapt -- on any given day I’ll wear a crucifix, an Allah pendant and a Kabbalah bracelet. “No, I’m not Jewish and I’m not a Jew for Jesus so please let go home. I have Lombardi’s waiting.”

Everyone knows to keep a safe distance from persons over the age of 5 who talk to themselves, strike up conversations with invisible friends or plot conspiracy theories with Mulder and Scully. But Bluetooth has recently blurred the lines between normal cell-phone usage and just plain crazy. While I’m sure the device generally protects against the epidemic of driving like an idiot, I can’t figure out its purpose for street walkers. First, God gave you two sets of arms and hands, use one. Second, talking and walking is not illegal, unless of course your feet somehow qualify as a “motorized vehicle” -- in which case you’re traveling around on battery-powered rollerblades or crazy regardless. Third, and most importantly, you look like you’re talking to yourself. And that’s just distracting. People passing now have to double take and scan your big head for some sort of earpiece just to determine whether they have to cross the street and keep a safe distance. So please, don’t use your Bluetooth device while walking, they are officially making me and Sparky, my invisible dog, lose our minds.