Brooklyn Alive

View of Verrazano from Bay Ridge

I boarded the crowded express train on Friday morning. After we stopped at Canal street, 2/3rds of the train emptied out. I was standing against the door when I noticed a nasty smell. I looked at the guy next to me and I could tell he smelt it too. He glanced down at the floor in front of him. I followed his gaze and as my mind began to register the horridness of what I saw, I had to fight the urge to puke. On the floor of the subway in front of me was shit. I'd like to believe it came from a dog. A dog with runny doo. Or maybe a baby. But Fifi has assured me that it was in fact human shit I saw. The guy on the subway nonchalantly checked the bottom of his shoes. I glanced around looking at other people on the train. They were looking at it but didn't appear concerned. I knew my face betrayed my disgust. That's the thing with New Yorkers, nothing shocks them. Note to self: never wear flip flops in the city again. My Friday ended with a yoga class.

On Saturday, everyone was outside and as I was walking down the street this guy in a van looked at me and said to his friend, "Holy shit, look at the cans on that girl!" I walked to the edge of my neighborhood which borders on the Upper New York bay. I was expecting to see a beautiful body of water, but instead saw huge ships (oil tankers?) circling the bay. Garbage lined the rocks and the water was a mysterious hue. A funky odor was in the air. I saw Manhattan in the distance cloaked by a thick layer of yellow smog. Ah Brooklyn, the place I call home.