On June 15, I walked downtown to buy a baseball glove for Owen’s birthday. They didn’t have his size at the location of the store I went into the day before, on 6th Avenue, so the worker called a fellow worker at a location downtown to see if they had one, and they did. (It made sense that they would have it downtown, since it’s not really a place where people go to shop.) So the next day, which was also Owen’s birthday, I went down to buy it. It was the last purchase I had to make.
Walking back home, I passed by this former gas station. A sign posted to the fence that surrounds the lot says that they moved uptown to Avenue C and 2nd Street. Now, anyone familiar with that location will know that there is already a gas station at that location. So it cannot be said that this station moved. It simply closed.
It was hot that day, and the sun seemed to reflect in every direction from the concrete lot where cars once jockeyed for position at the pumps and then again to get back onto the street. It’s always precarious walking past a gas station in Manhattan. It’s probably true that it’s precarious walking anywhere cars are jockeying for position, which means it’s unsafe to walk anywhere there are cars. Cars are just dangerous to people at all times.
Last night I was walking home from signing up Owen for summer camp when a van made an illegal right turn at a light and almost hit us. Well, it came close enough. I yelled “You don’t have the green light!” at him and then started to follow up with something a bit more expletive but I stopped myself, since I was with Owen. Unfortunately, the “fuh” part of the word made it out before I stopped myself, and Owen said “Ooooohhh! I’m telling your mother! She’s going to make you go to your room, at your old house!” That’s his thing now. It’s not enough that he’s going to tell my mother on me for various infractions, but now I will be sent to my room at my old house. I told him I stopped myself but he didn’t care. He said he was going to tell anyway. No good deed goes unpunished.