Throwing Punches

New York and I are fighting.  Not just cat fighting- we're full out hair pulling, fist thrusting, knife wielding fighting.  It all started last night when roaches started pouring into the apartment. Ok, maybe not pouring, but nonetheless, they are horrid little creatures that should have disappeared along with the dinosaurs.  Images of roaches crawling all over me in my sleep kept me awake in fear.  When it was time to start getting ready for work, I donned my flip flops, leather jacket, and skinny jeans only to find that it was 45 degrees outside.  Ok, fine. I can deal with a little cold spell.  Then after work, the rain came.  It poured.  Of course I didn't have an umbrella.  

But still, I thought it was ok. I finagled my way through the rain to my promo interview, and looking like a drowned rat (though I prefer mermaid, Miss Catalano) I slid into the elevator like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.  After the interview, I walked home in the pouring rain and bypassed a limping man at the corner of my street.  As I turned the key into my building, the man's limp suddenly disappeared and he started running towards me! Like, a truly jilted New Yorker I ran into the building, shutting the door tightly behind me.  The man then proceeded to loudly bang on the door screaming, "mwaaaah!!! Mwaaah!!! OMG, what the hell was that all about?  Was I about to become a victim of some heinous crime?  Did the craigslist killer get tired of the online scene and start hunting down women in the street? 

Adrenaline kicking, I made my way up the 4 flights of exhausting stairs and flopped down onto my couch.  All I wanted was to sleep, but the thought of roaches was still too strong. The BF came home and provided a good 10 minutes of cuddling, when it was time to get ready for my audition.  Ouch, ouch ouch. The blister on my foot had turned into an ugly, gaping wound oozing stuff that I didn't even know was possible to ooze.  This presented me with quite the conundrum.  It was raining cats and dogs and freezing out but due to the purging I did in the move, the only open-backed shoes I had were flip flops.  Flip flops it would have to be.  

HUGE mistake. Huge.  Times Square was the worst.  I slipped and caught myself from falling a total of nine times.  I walked in puddles so large they should have been classified as lakes.  My gapping wound probably now has a number of third world diseases and I think my foot is going to fall off.  Then a car decided not to follow traffic signals and skidded to a stop half an inch from my body.  Half an inch people!  I could feel the heat of the car, but by this time I was too tired and wet to even give the guy a dirty look.  

Finally making it to the audition (with a thrown out back), I realized I was in an apartment building.  I don't do apartments. I always thought that you should be professional enough to spurge the extra $20 and get a freakin studio.   But, after the epic journey I had getting there, I wasn't going to turn back.   Walking in, I realized that this wasn't just any apartment.  This was a castle.  This was the most beautiful home I have ever seen in New York City.  Hell, if I lived there I would have my castings there too.  My reading wasn't that great though.  I thought I was too overdramatic, but they seemed to like it so I guess that's what matters.  The director liked that I didn't grow up in NYC.  She said that she was looking for someone who wasn't hardened by the city and I quickly assured her that I cry at just about anything around here.  She loved that.  I'm certainly in the right industry.

So, after my audition I made my way down the stairs to get to the subway when I stopped.  There was an entire foot of water standing between me and the entrance.  I'm not exaggerating.  Even my flip flopped infested, rain soaked feet couldn't handle that.  So I ventured back into the rain.  Eventually, after practically walking barefoot through times square, I made it back to my neighborhood.  On the subway on the way there, I almost passed out with dreams of steamy showers to relax my over stressed bones on the stranger's shoulder next to me.  Making my way back to the apartment, I thought no.  I'm not going to let the city win tonight.  I'm not just going to go back to my roach infested apartment to feel sorry for myself when things really aren't that bad.  I'm going out.  So here I am, at a pub typing my feelings while sipping (downing) a Guinness.  NYC isn't that bad.  After all, on the 7th slip in times square, I looked up into the illuminated sky with rain pouring into my face and knew that there was no place I would rather be.  Even if my foot does fall off.