New York, New York

Phillip and I hit it off on our camping trip that summer so well, that I was invited to spend a week in New York.  Queens, New York that is but first the camping trip.  I did not know there wouldn't be electricity for my blow dryer or a warm cabin.  I thought the sleeping bag was to sleep on the floor of the cabin; not in a lean to.  The sounds of nature at night kept me up and a raccoon ate my marshmallows.  In the morning there wasn't a place to shower and the suggestion to dip in the dirty lake was not appealing at all.  Not to mention I couldn't get my hair wet since there was no place to plug in my blow dryer.  C'mon, a well structured MJ fro required high maintenance and heat to blow out the hair.  I was styling a blow out before the "blow out" became a thing.  Most guys my age (14) would wear their hair braided an occasionally sport the fro.  I sported the fro everyday and viewed braids as curlers never to be sported in public.  Fortunately, before moving to the suburbs I learned how to braid my own hair since my cousins would not braid it for me anymore.  Shelly said, "I spent hours on your hair and you took it out already?"  I took it out the next day.  I think she expected me to wear my hair in braids for a few days.  Most of the girls who couldn't wait to get their hands in my "good" hair, that's what they called it,  were disappointed that I did not advertise their work.  No one understood that my hair was my thing.  It was something I had control over ever since my mom stopped taking me to get those Ceasar hair cuts at my request.  How I hated the barber shop.  She would take me or should I say drop me off after telling the barber how to cut my hair.  I had to endure the barbershop environment alone since dad was nowhere to be found.  Till this day, I am not a fan of the barbershop with the foul language, inappropriate conversations, degradation of women and anything that is considered unmanly.  I sported my fro straight through my first year of college and I never went camping again.  What was Joyce thinking.  I never made it through two week summer day camp.  It was just something about being in the woods I didn't like.

My mother waved goodbye as the Greyhound bus departed from Albany, NY bus station heading to New York Port Authority.  It was my very first trip on my own and of course she ensured that I had everything I needed in my suitcase by asking me if I had things like a toothbrush, plenty of underwear, enough clothes for the week, lotion, and a thank you card for the family. She didn't ask about hair products like the blow dryer, hair food, pick, or comb.  I guess she figured I had that covered which I did.  Proper hair care was always at the top of my list.  I had been to New York twice with my mom when I was younger for a dance workshop and a beauty pageant.  My cousin was in the beauty pageant not me but all we saw of New York was the hotel that the workshop and pageant were held.  The Broadway plays she took me to were day trips with just enough time to stand in line at the ticket booth on Broadway, grab a quick bite, catch the show, and catch the bus or train for the return trip home.  No exploration of the hustle and bustle and with my sister in tow, I had to stay close to mother.  We did go to a Greek restaurant and tried souvlaki which was the extent of my exposure to New York.

When I arrived in New York at the Port Authority, my instructions were to wait for Phillip and his parents to pick me up.  I wasn't told where to wait and thought they would be at the terminal gate.  I didn't see Phillip when I got off the bus and the crowd sort of steered me outside to 42nd and 8th Avenue.  So there I was in New York City across the street from the Chock Full O Nuts shop.  On the opposite corner was the Port Authority building and the fourth corner held a shop that had XXX on the window and a neon sign outline of a female form.  The cars, busses and taxis were cruising past the intersection in all directions.  Horns were honking, bells were ringing, venders were calling for customers, the smell of roasted nuts was in the air along with a foul smell funk.  The buildings seemed so tall as I strained to see the top of them.  While looking up I heard someone call my name, Eddie...





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