The Path of Most Resistance

Almost every day, I walk home from work twice. Once, when I go home at lunch to walk Gertie (lovingly known as The Pissbag) and again when I’m actually walking home after my day, again, rushing to walk The Pissbag.

The fastest way from point A to point B is to take Broadway. For those of you who don’t know, Broadway runs the length of practically the entire city. You’d think, given the length of New York City, that there are parts of Broadway that DON’T SUCK. You’d be wrong.

I happen to live/work all the way Downtown in the Financial District, where Broadway starts. I walk by “The Bull” every day. “The Bull” (an anatomically correct statue of a bull) is the bane of my existence, as there is never any time of day where some numb nuts isn’t grabbing The Bull’s balls while his/her moron friend/parent takes a picture. It’s mob scene. The whole street, from start to finish is an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

So the other day, I leave at lunch to walk Gertie. Imagine every suit still left on Wall Street and their mothers out of their offices getting lunch to go/to stay/or to just eat right there on the sidewalk. Just idea of it makes me tense up like my brothers did on the night of my wedding; I don’t even want to THINK about it.

In order to preserve the sliver of sanity I grasp so desperately to, I generally reject the sidewalk on Broadway and I take the street. The way I see it is that the street (walking the wrong way, against traffic) is the path of least resistance.

It wasn’t until the other day, when I was nearly clipped by a rouge taxi, that I really stopped to contemplate: is the path of least resistance really the best way to go?

I’m 29.8 years old. If I were to think of the M.O. of my life thus far, it’s that I tend toward this path. I’m not generally a confrontational person. I like to have a clear road ahead of me with little drama, small speed bumps, and practically zero obstacle. I like to be the peacekeeper and the voice of reason…even if the reason is that I just don’t feel like having anything in my way between Point A (me) and Point B (content happiness).

People have been so bold as to say that I “smile too much”. Well, I smile, because that’s the path of least resistance. No one, not even the angriest, most aggravated person can resist an honest smile, and an understanding disposition.

In most cases, this has served me well. But is it possible that this has been a disservice?

I mean, think about it - it’s equivalent to walking in the street on Broadway; 99 times out of 100, it’s an aggravation-free route to getting where I need to be. No hassles, no stepping on any toes, no drama. But there’s bound to be that 1 out of 100 when I get absolutely LEVELED by a Downtown bus. And then, in comparison, a few hip-checks and couple episodes of “getting caught behind leisurely tourists” doesn’t seem so bad.

So I ask myself: in life…do I want to risk being leveled by the Downtown bus?

The few 1 out of 100 times I’ve been “hit” has been bad. As opposed to joining the rest of the world on the sidewalks – throwing shoulders, exchanging dirty looks and having it out right then and there, I’ve been walking up a one-way street, smiling. And then, a taxi (or any kind of major issue) pulls over into my personal space and virtually kills me. That one time I decide to fight the fight, I’m outweighed…drastically. And, as it turns out, the repercussions of the path of least resistance are far greater than getting a stubbed toe, or simply enduring a “fuck you” by a random passer-by.

A few times in my older age, I’ve decided to “veer into on-coming traffic” to speak up, or to stick up, or to voice an opinion on what I think is right – even if it meant stepping in front of on-coming cars. Practically every time, it has ended badly. Which leads me to believe that perhaps being on the sidewalk, and speaking up, sticking up, and voicing my opinion on what I think is right on a daily basis is the way to go. At least then, I’m not up against anything I can’t handle…I’m just in the ring with the rest of the world – fighting for Point B.

After all, picking battles is a hell of a lot easier when you’re surrounded by them. Fighting the war from the sidelines is just a good way to get trampled by a policeman on a horse (which, again, has happened to me).

So from now on, I think I’m going to walk up the sidewalk of Broadway. I’m going to push past tourists, and yell at someone for littering, and shoot back a couple of stink-eyes from strangers. I’m going to take the path of most resistance, and when I get to Point B - at very least - I’ll feel like I’ve earned the right to be there.

But no - I'm not going to smile any less.

What is the meaning of this?

I have to say, I'm a little dumbfounded. I'm also incredibly touched, and a little scared. Mostly dumbfounded, though.

Here's the deal: I feel dead inside. Maybe it's the impending holidays (which never fails to fill my creative brain cells with chocolate and Christmas music, rendering them useless for much else), maybe it's the fact that I've been sleeping very little and have literally zombified, maybe it's the shorter amount of daylight...who knows. In any case, and for whatever reason, I'm brain dead, and in a creative coma.

Last night, I contemplated blogging and actually chose to make myself even more brain dead by watching "Bride Wars" (Note to Kate Hudson: bangs aren't your thang, girlfriend) and polishing off the rest of a delicious bottle of wine, courtesy of Chris Tugeau, Mother Extraordinaire.

I'm embarrassed to admit that fact - I am. I should have said that I watched "Love in the Time of Cholera" - or better yet, read it. But I need you to see how desperate the situation is! BRIDE WARS, people!

Don't ask my why Robin is checking my blog while she should be working (busted!) but she just asked me what the deal is. It's been 19 days since my last entry, and I can't tell you what I've been doing instead.

Well, I know what I did one night (see picture).

I told her that I was in a coma and to wake me when the holidays are over and I can once again decipher ass from elbow. But then, I became curious.

I've been radio silent for nearly a month...has anyone noticed? Does anyone care? How can I procrastinate on this invoicing any more than I already have?

I had to know. I had to procrastinate. And so, I checked.

Mind you, I still don't know if anyone cares, (as I am many things, but mind-reader is not one of them) but people - a lot of people - have noticed! Holy Cow! I have hits on a daily basis! Lots of 'em! Even some on the weekends...which surprises me the most, as all the tea in China couldn't get me in front of a computer on the weekend.

Like I said, I'm touched. I mean, look how many "!'s" I just used. That's my LEAST FAVORATE PUNCTUATION! That's how touched I am.

I don't know who you are - but thanks, Friend. Thanks for the love.

That said, it's amazing what a little love can do. I've got a blog idea - it just came to me, and it's practically writing itself.

So...head's up, Loyal Readers...

INCOMING!


ps - To follow up: I went out on Halloween night, and saw more T&A than a straight girl who's afraid of nakedness should ever see in a lifetime. Well done, Women of New York - you have not let me down. You've made me want to gauge my eyes out, but you have not disappointed.