And no, I don’t mean the “Hey, baby, wanna get lucky?” kind. I’m talking Fords, Chevys, big ol’ Dodge Rams. I just went three full days without seeing a single pickup truck.
Where on earth could this kind of insanity happen, you ask?
Yep, that’s New York. The Big Apple. This hick’s been in the city, and I gotta say…I loved it.
First off, there’s a bakery on every corner. Pastries. Red velvet cupcakes. Flan. Bagels. Let me stop now before I drown my keyboard in drool. There is also this thing called lunch delivery, by which a single slice of cheese pizza and a Pepsi miraculously appear at your door.
It is also the only place I’ve ever been where everybody walks as fast as me. My entire life I’ve had people trailing along in my wake, glaring at my back because I can’t seem to pace myself. In New York I had to stride out a little to keep up, even with my friend Juliet’s kids along for the stroll. Oh yeah. I could live here.
Except there are no pickups.
It makes sense, when you think about it. What use does a New Yorker have for a vehicle with an open box? Anything you leave in there is going to either get soaked or disappear as soon as you park and walk away. Or possibly at the next stoplight. I assume that’s why even the construction workers drive vans.
So yeah, it makes sense. But sadly, that puts paid to my brief fantasy of having a twenty four hour bakery across the street from my office. I simply can’t exist in a world without pickups. Sure was delicious while it lasted, though.
Kari Lynn Dell – back in Montana for Real