(I'm interviewing all week, so I've no time to write up anything new. Here's another installment from 2001, post-September 11th.)
I’m exhausted today. I was up until 4am finishing the book and paper that I should have been doing last week. (I have to read the paper as a class presentation.) But last week I couldn’t do anything but think and absorb and feel. Not to mention that the book I have to read is titled, “The Great War and Modern Memory.” How ironic. I was able to finish the paper today at work, which was excellent. I wrote it comparing the Great War and the advent of the New War. Scary that it even has a title.
Aside from writing my paper I did some filing and phone answering and worked on my computer which I found this morning with 942 virus infected files. What a nightmare.
Right before I got off work I got an email from my professor stating that class had been cancelled until October 3rd. (This is for my literature class.) So, all my work was for naught, and I gained a reprieve from my paper and presentation. Normally I have to rush home on Monday’s and Wednesday’s in order to eat and get to class, but since class was canceled, I was able to meet up with Shawn and walk home with her. The walk proved to be the most eventful part of the day. (I guess I owe you all a story here, since this entry is decidedly boring so far. I’m tired, okay?)
As I said, we were walking down the street, 5th Avenue, to be exact, near 34th St., were all the illegal goods are sold, from fake Oakley sunglasses to faux Rolexes to jewelry to (lately) American flags, bootleg CD’s and videos. All these items are displayed on a flattened bag on the sidewalk or a makeshift cardboard box table with a sheet over it so that if the cops come through, they can quickly snatch up their items and run for it. Which is exactly what happened. Right as we hit illegal row, people were running like the buildings were falling, which they did because there is a hefty fine for selling goods on the street without a permit. What I saw next was pure theatre; a young cop running after them, kicking over their makeshift tables and generally trying to scare them away. It was a full-on shakedown and rather fun to watch. Now, that sounds callous.
These sidewalk sellers, I don’t know. They are selling illegal goods that draw money from legitimate businesses and raise customer costs. They don’t pay for permits and they don’t pay taxes. But I’d rather have them selling illegal goods and at least working for a living, be it honest or not. Otherwise they’d be on the sidewalk corner with a paper cup. Which is worse?
Anyway, due to my stay of presentation, we went to the Belgian Beer Bar on West 4th St. between McDougal and 6th Ave. The bar was really cool, nicely lit, and full of interesting beers for us to try. The only problem was that the waitresses were inattentive, but we didn’t mind much. We had a couple of drinks and talked about (what else?) terrorism and bombing and war. Yesterday was an emotional low for our spirits, but over spirits we managed to wade our way through our complicated feelings on all these new issues.
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