A Good Day
“Girls, the lawn is closed,” a voice cut through the music playing. I looked around and saw an officer walking toward us. We had our blanket splayed on the grass, our laptops connected to our personal hotspots, and our shoes were off. We were enjoying the first 63 degree day New York was offering.
“Closed??” My roommate, Katie, asked. “Are you kidding me?” I had seen the red flag, and kind of ignored it, not taking it too seriously. The sign read, “Closed for maintenance Tuesdays until 12.” But it was 2:30. We should be fine.
“It’s off-season. Let’s go,” the officer responded. I could tell my Katie was gearing up to say more, but I nudged her, letting her know it wasn’t worth it, to let it go. We unsplayed our blanket, disconnected and closed our laptops, and put our socks and sneakers back on. We weren’t giving up on the outdoor setup just yet, though. We strolled through our little community, desperate to find a grassy lawn with sun that was open. Closed gate after closed gate, we started to get discouraged.
“Let’s try the playground up there, and if it’s a no go, just head to Tompkins Square.” So we trudged up the oddly-sized stairs, and to our delight, spied a green and sundrenched spot inside the playground. Green being the key word there, because it was not grass. But we didn’t care at that point. So we splayed our blanket on the green, reconnected our laptops to our personal hotspots, and took our shoes off again.
About an hour in, the playground started to get a bit cranky. Nannies and kids showed up post-school, and soccer balls started to wiz by, a little too close to our precious laptops for comfort.
“I think it’s time for a coffee shop,” I suggested. So up we went again, only the East Village is not known for coffee shops or good places to sit outside and work. It’s loud, and the streets aren’t clean, per say.
We ended up back in our little community loop after a solid 30 minute failure of a stroll, and we were faced with the decision to admit defeat and head home, or try out the Stuytown Cafe, notoriously overpriced and not-that-good. We went for the cafe. I wanted to be outside.
“Is it bad if I order a beer?” I asked Katie. She looked at me, and I saw her eyes light up. A Vermont native, a beer is always a yes for her.
“You know I can never say no to that,” she replied.
So, instead of the grass, instead of the coffee, and instead of working really hard, we got green, actually not-overpriced-and-good beer, and working hard.
It was a good day.
The Bam Cam 