Type A Gay

Weezer played on my iPod. My shoes were perfectly polished and I wore one of my favorite outfits. It was one of those magical Saturday mornings in New York. Saturdays are my absolute favorite day of the week. I typically brunch it up, take long walks around the East Village & breathe in the intense yet very creative New York air.

On one of those magical days, the streets were soaked from a previous rain shower. I lingered around the sidewalks, which were slightly empty. I stepped in front of a record shop with a window display filled with obscure CDs and DVDs. As I walked away from the record shop (still feelings distracted), I noticed a big bus driving uptown. From the corner of my eye, I then noticed a puddle.

I did quick math in my head. Bus + puddle = A soaked Anthony and even worse, a very damaged iPhone. The bus drove closer and I didn’t have any time to step away from the edge of the street. The bus went over the puddle and the unthinkable happened. I looked at my outfit and iPhone, “wow I didn’t end up drenched.”

I went on my merry way. As I walked toward the Lower East Side, the breezy weather turned into a humid afternoon. While walking in Chinatown, the humidity levels increased as the tenement buildings grew closer together. At that moment, I hoped to be Carrie Bradshaw in the opening credits of Sex & the city, getting splashed by a bus. Alas, nobody splashed me.

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