Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Ain't that sweet, my lil' gal.

Alright. By request, I posted this in the comments section over at someone else's blog, and decided to post it here as well. So yeah, you're getting some recycled material today. BUT, you guys get a very special footnote, which is exclusive to this here blog. Kind of like those bonus tracks they tack onto Japanese and Australian CDs.

Ok, so an ex-flame had been after me for some time to have a picnic in the park. And although I admit I tend to believe that the idea of a picnic is always inevitably better than its actual execution, I eventually relented and we decided to hit Central Park one beautiful early-summer evening (much cooler than the weather we’ve been having here lately) with a bottle of wine and some Fairway-supplied goodies.

And perched on some rocks in the deserted and darkening Sheep’s Meadow, I had to admit it was pretty nice.

So as the sun went down (along with the level of wine in the bottle) we laid back and watched peacefully as lights came on in the surrounding buildings and bats circled overhead. Well, I did, anyway. I love bats, and was instantly transported back to childhood summer nights spent with my brother floating silently in the blackened waters of our family’s pool, watching in fascination as bats swooped down and skimmed insects off the surface all around us.

The ex-flame was less than thrilled, but agreed to stay put as said bats were not exhibiting any outward signs of rabies.

At one point, I became aware of movement on the rocks next to us, and the ex-flame cooed, “Aw, I didn’t know squirrels came out at night.”

I turned my head to look at the squirrel that was, at this point, just inches away from our heads, and said, “Um, yeah. That’s a rat.”

That did it. With a screech the picnic was declared over, and we hightailed it home. I wanted to tell her that anyone who spends any time in the park in the evenings knows that the number of rats there far outnumbers the people who use it by day, but I decided to just keep my mouth shut.

Interesting footnote: shortly thereafter I came down with what was, after a long and arduous sickness, ultimately diagnosed as an infectious disease not seen in New York since the 1970s. This made me a superstar both in my doctor’s office and with the CDC—a status which I still enjoy to this day. And although they never did pinpoint how I picked it up (and doubt it was in Central Park), I like to believe it was courtesy of that friendly rat we encountered on those rocks that lovely summer evening.

And don’t worry, I’m all cured. And it wasn’t contagious anyway. We can still make out.

3 Comments:

Blogger Mr. H.K. said...

I stel my own comments off other people's blogs all the time and make posts out of them...

I enjoy your blog, BTW.

Mr. HK
Postcards from Hell's Kitchen

5:17 PM  
Blogger Blood Ray said...

I do it, too. Often I'll be really impressed with a turn of phrase that I use in a comment and feel it's my duty to share it as an entry on my blog.

I also call people up and start babbling about whatever subject I'm riled up about the time. I feel as though I am workshopping my stuff before I put it on my blog. I'm not sure if they realize it.

6:52 PM  
Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Wow, since the 70's! That's amazing. The rat didn't bite you though, so I'm more inclined to believe a spec of bat feces speckled your Fairway food, and that's how you caught the bug.

Great story, P/O.

2:09 PM  

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