It was bound to happen at some point in this winter of apparently endless snow: it’s playing tricks on what’s left of my mind. I seem to be in a perpetual snow-induced delirium. For example, I’ve been hearing things at The Grind: groaning and moaning in the walls as well as invisible pigeons cooing outside. Sometimes I hear hammering. I’m not sure if that’s in the walls, if it’s outside or maybe it’s inside my head? My colleague, Godsend, hears none of this. She has smelled things I cannot sniff. Sometimes gas, other times toast. She thinks I’m suffering aural hallucinations and predicts that I’ll be seeing things next.
Me: Oh, hardy, har, har. [pause] Hey, who’s that in the back of the room?
Godsend looks.
Godsend: Athena!
Athena is our industrial designer who’s worked with us almost two years.
Me: I know Athena! My mind’s not that shot. I just want to know who’s the guy near her that looks like Benjamin Franklin. Sheesh!
One thing I was certain I saw were two pigeons conjugating the verb on an air conditioner across from our building.
Me: Hey, Godsend, check out the pigeons screwing on the a/c!
Godsend: I don’t want to see pigeon porn!
Well, maybe you do.
This magic moment.
A nano-second later: “Do you have a cigarette?”
On the way into The Grind on Monday, I recognized the graffiti smeared on the 2 Express train’s door. It’s not like it was very memorable graffiti, nor was it in the forefront of my thoughts since whenever it was that I last saw it, a period of time between 24 hours and 24 days earlier. For some reason, it stuck in my head.
Monogram in coffee, gravy or dried blood?
Subway rider who failed to read the memo that wearing ballet flats in 21 degree weather will not induce spring.
Recently, I saw one of my former next-door neighbors on the street, almost a year after he moved out. I made sure not to say hello. Why start acting friendly when we never acknowledged each other during the year he was singing loud and off-key through our shared wall? I may have said on more than one occasion at the top of my lungs:
Me: Please, shut the hell up! You’re torturing me!
One welcome sight I’m sure I glimpsed was this miniature Frosty on a brownstone’s stoop.
“I love this cold weather!”
I thought it was a very New York City touch to use pennies for his eyes and belly button. If there’s any city in the country where people are inclined to throw money around, this is that place.
Lame Adventures 
And more hallucinations on the way Wednesday night into Thursday…
Stay safe and warm,
R.
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So I’ve heard R. Joy.
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Pigeon porn. Got me thinking about the two Brit birds who lived downstairs from Oscar and Felix. You think anything could have happened there?
Banging etc could be steam pipes. Could be dead people. Your choice.
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Not banging. Hammering. This building is an ancient New York artifact. I’m sure there’s more than a few ghosts lurking the halls. Hopefully, they’ll continue to steer clear of my floor. Today’s all been quiet except The Boss had her fill of the Foo Fighters this morning and ordered Godsend to stream something else. She did. The Dead Kennedy’s cover of “Viva Las Vegas”. That worked for me. So melodic.
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Ah, Jello Biafra. Too Drunk to Fuck. My personal favorite Dead Kennedys tune.
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And a perfect wedding day theme song, too!
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Funny, I don’t remember having known you in 1987, much less having invited you to our reception or the hotel later that evening.
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Pigeon porn?!!!! Is that what I see and hear outside my window? My fine feathered friends are conjugating the verb?! Hilarious!
Wishing you the sanity that comes with spring,
Kathy
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Let’s hope that spring also brings more storytelling inspiration, too! This site is turning into Accuweather.
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What an optimist – the ballet flats! I would bet that her feet are a bit filthy by the time she gets home unless she sprayed them with Scotch Guard first. We’re up to 50 degrees here today – perhaps enough to melt the snow that remains here in the valley. Hope your warm weather isn’t far behind, girl!
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That’s where you and I diverge, Jean. I thought, “What a jerk — ballet flats!” I still think that. It’s right up there with when I see idiots in shorts and down jackets. I cannot believe they’re all coming and going from the gym. It makes me almost want to take back every nasty thought I’ve ever had about imbeciles that go out wearing their pajama pants. I said “almost”. I don’t see any temperature higher than 37 on my weather app. I think we’ll hit the fifties in April 2015.
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I like the snowman too, V, but I was hoping for Milton’s assessment of its artistic merits! The pennies are a nice touch.
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He would either find them inspired or tacky. There’s not a lot of middle ground with Milton, Cathy.
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Well, you hit on 3 of the 5 senses. You could combine touch and taste and stick your tongue to a lamp post. It would make a cute selfie for the cover of your next book, “Stuck in New York.” I recommend gargling with Listerine before and after. You never know what kind of sicko might have been running his/her hand up and down that pole.
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Talk about porn! How did that last sentence get by the censors at Word Press?
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WordPress is preoccupied these days with you: http://wp.me/pf2B5-6gf.
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Please understand that this comment is not directed to you, dear LA Woman: but bloggers have got to stop taking themselves so seriously. As a nearly 30 year member of the IC, I can state with certainty we’re not that interested in what you (collectively) have to say. And while the soapbox is out, why do I have to continuously “confirm” my follow we every time in post and ask for updates?
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I agree with you! There are millions of blogs out there. It’s rather egotistical to think that anyone is paying attention to any of these ordinary bordering on dull posts.
I thought that you just needed to confirm once per post and then you’d be inundated with updates?
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You are correct. I only have to confirm once per post. But I figured owing to my title as LA Wingman (vice wingnut) I would be done with such plebeian tasks. I was wrong.
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Vice wingnut has a nice ring to it like a Bronx cheer.
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Or, I could just spray my tongue with Lysol, first, Russell?
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Oh, yes. “Nano-second” sex. Reminds me of my first husband.
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Quick Draw McGraw, Jr.?
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Pigeon porn, graffiti of some unidentified substance and snowmen on brownstone stoops. Are these a few of your favorite things? I don’t picture you as “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and…” kind of gal.
Where else can one find all that and more? Why here of course, V. I hear humming late at night a lot and it drives me crazy.
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Yes, Brig, the sludge of the city and frantic flapping of wings are among my favorite things, now that I’m practicing portion control food-wise and have cut out cookies. Maybe that explains why I’m seeing things?
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I like the minature Frosty, as long as he’s in your neighborhood and not mine. Since we no longer use pennies in Canada, this seems a practical way to get rid of them. I’m flushed with a wave of optimism for the weather here, as the fellow who is going to install our new eavestroughing called to say they will start work tomorrow morning. It’s supposed to be warmer. We’ll see… Currently it’s -17 C. (1 F.) This is the first year that a warm vacation has had any appeal, but I’ve toughed it out this long so I’ll stay put. If I did decide to take off to Hawaii we would immediately experience record breaking warm temperatures here and I’d miss all the fun!
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1 F! At least it was 31 when I exited the subway this evening, Terri. That might feel like Hawaii to you! Thank you for adding “eavestroughing” to my vocabulary. It’s now right up there with another Canada-ism: poutine.
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Bunch of great comments above. Clever followers you have.
I did that tongue-to-pumphandle thing when I was a kid. Stoooopid!
‘Hurz yike hehh!!!’
Listerine would probably sting along afterward.
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One year, Jim, my holiday card was a photo of a kid standing in the snow with his tongue stuck to a metal pole. The inside caption: “Theason’s Greetingth!”
I agree with you: my followers are clever commenters! You fit right in.
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Thangths 🙂
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Pigeon porn? You have all the fun.
Why why wear such stupid shoes in this weather?
I’m tired of all the white too; it does play tricks on our sanity.
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Audra, don’t blame THAT on the snowfall in zither NUTmeg State.
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Queen Nut here
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Another iPhuckup. The NUTmeg State.
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And we’re going to get somewhere between eight inches and a million feet more snow tomorrow! Ballet flats these days? WTF is that about?
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So either the pigeons are real or you have managed to find a way to take photos of your hallucinations.
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Hallucinatory pigeons works for me. Now if only I could hallucinate a raise.
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Wouldn’t a real raise be more useful?
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A real raise at this point at my Grind is a figment of the imagination. The last time I had one W was still president. I never thought I’d equate him with good times.
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I learned early in life not to get close to those smeared graffiti.
Those shoes is like when I see girls wearing short shorts in the middle of a snow storm, a huge jacket, scarf, cap, gloves, but short shorts. I just don’t get it.
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I don’t get it, either, Leo. I have noticed that some people tend to dress for the next season during the current one as if that type of lunacy will expedite its arrival. A tried and false method that never works.
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Did I tell you that Reggie recently ate a carrot out of a snowman’s nose this week? The snowman was on someone’s stoop on the next block. We hightailed it out of there while he was still chewing.
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Maybe chowing down the snowman’s carrot nose is just Reggie’s way of expressing his displeasure with all these acres and acres of snow. Or maybe he just ate the carrot because it looked appetizing.
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How did you snap a photo of the pigeon porn? Where you waiting all day for it to happen? I imagine it’s quick. Not that I sit around all day imagining pigeon porn. I’m going to shut up now. Happy Friday
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I just happened to be in the right place (standing by my desk at The Grind) at the right time. Plus a dead give away was when the male put Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get it On” on the turntable, a page straight out of my own Manual of Sexual Begging.
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What’s that thing with wearing ballet shoes in freezing weather… same here…
ps. Just noticed that a disproportionate number of my comments on your blog refer to weather. Maybe I’ve become British and have not noticed that.
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Pixie, a disproportionate number of my posts this winter have been about weather. We make a good team.
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Oh, good. So it’s not just me. I feel relieved. #youarenotalone
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My fantasies shifted from sex to spring-like temperatures about three snowstorms ago.
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Haha. Gosh, that’s not even funny. I’m sorry.
That said, those flood warnings kinda keep lingering on my mind recently as well…
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As I suffer slush on the brain, I know I would not be wild about flooding, either.
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The perfect read for Valentines Day. Loved your pigeon porn.
You with the snow, us with the rain. when will it end? And what else will you see before the weather finally breaks?
We are on tenterhooks, Phil and I, to find out.
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Now you’re giving me performance anxiety, Kate — and Phil, too! I feel lucky to be let off the Maddie, Felix, Mac and cat (tenter)hooks!
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I think the belly button penny is hiding his USB port.
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What intelligent design.
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My sympathy to you. I can’t believe Georgia is colder than Alaska. I surely can’t complain. I’m enjoying beautiful blue sky and very warm weather now, 38F. And the birds are where they should be, not on a/c. 😉
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According to my go-to weather information source, Arti, my iPhone weather app, snow will return on Tuesday but temperatures could return to the mid forties by Wednesday and they look close to fifty by Friday. Bring on more slush! If I could sell this stuff, real life New York City slop, I’d be a millionaire.
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We’ve had one of the coldest winters that I can remember. I can’t wait until I can leave the house and NOT regret being too cool to wear a hat.
Oh…and don’t knock pigeon porn. They’re creating more little winged rats. Isn’t nature grand?! 🙂
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Wendy, when it’s frigid cold and/or snowing I think people that are not wearing hats or hoods are crazy. The weather is bad enough. I don’t want to add getting pneumonia to this season of Hell.
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