LOST

I’d briefly like to shout out to our friend Ashley. The other day Ashley and I decided to go running on a Saturday (around noon). For the record, running is an extremely rare occurrence for me…I do it like, never. Second, there are few people I despise more than couples or friends that run together on the weekend. Usually I’m on the other of this story, staring at those people while tightly gripping a Revive Vitamin Water and trying not to vomit Petron on my bacon egg and cheese. And even on this particular Saturday I was hungover, on 4 hours of sleep and charged solely by a 5hr energy drink I found in the back of my cabinet, probably left by the previous tenant. But back to Ashley.

As we made our way downtown past Washington Square Park and into the “No” areas of Manhattan (Noho, Nolita, No one gives a shit), I hear Ashley whisper “2”. A few blocks later I hear “3”. As I begin to look for ways to ditch my increasingly crazy friend, she explains, “I’m counting how many groups of people are lost.” THERE she is. Instead of jogging along to “All my single ladies” on her iPod (see “My Purple IPizzle” below), she was actively searching for fanny packs, I (heart) NY shirts and NYC maps. And what was I doing? Listening to my lungs collapse. Her game sounded more fun. That’s what true friends are for.

People that are LOST in New York are easier to spot than crabs on Lindsay Lohan. Grouped together in the middle of Broadway, they squint and rotate their maps while trying to avoid homeless people selling batteries. I love LOST tourists. I refuse to voluntarily help them and on the flip side, they rarely stop me for my GPS services. Maybe it’s because I’m listening to my iPod (see “My Purple IPizzle” below), maybe it’s because I’m walking fast and with a purpose, or maybe it’s because I am gawking at them like they are in middle school. But seriously, just ask me where you want to go…not only will I give you directions, but I’ll recommend nearby restaurants and bars and abstain from making fun of you until you’re out of earshot.

During our 25 min run, we counted 5 groups of LOST tourists and gave directions to a total number of none.

Afterward, we went to the Union Square Greenmarket (see "Union Squiggity" below) and ran into Mark Summers while buying locally grown apples. I’m such a cliché.