Bloody hell! It was about 90 degrees and I was already running late to a fabulous party on Staten Island, which to be perfectly honest, I wasn't exactly sure where that was, and knew that there would be a ferry involved.
I hopped into a cab that I found, by luck, on Broadway and 70th, and made my way down to pick up Eleonora and Jenny at the New York public library, where they were sitting on the steps people watching and soaking in some of the summer sun.
When I got there, they were dressed and ready, which delighted me and took me aback, because those two were never ready on time. Jenny stood up and announced triumphantly that they were even early, but she was standing in front of our friend and I was nervous about the reason why, and turns out, with good reason. There, sitting behind her, panting, drooling and sticking, was a gianormus dog thing that looked rather like a small horse. It came up to me and slobbered all over my new shoes. I felt a little bad, but I didn't really think we could bring a dog to Staten Island with us for this afternoon party.
Jenny threw her arms around his neck and exclaimed that she found a shelter that was on the way to the Brooklyn Army terminal to get the ferry. I agreed to take the dog with us. We walked out in front of the library and flagged down a cab who wouldn't take the dog, then another, and then another, when finally a towncar pulled up and a tall man in a dark suit asked us if we needed some help. I tried not to smile too brightly, as Byrne was still the love of my life, even if he was home playing video games on his new 60 inch tele. (Anyhow) Jenny introduced herself to him and explained what had happened and that we would love a ride. The three of us and the dog squished into the back.
He dropped us off at the shelter, where we had to tell the woman behind the counter, that we found the dog, and therefore couldn't actually drop him off without trying to find his owners first. I was wet and my shirt was sticking to my back because of the humidity, and I was feeling a bit faint. Having only coffee for breakfast, I knew that I needed some food.
We decided that we would take him with us to Jenny's and leave him before catching the ferry to Staten Island. An hour later, we were wet from sweat, we smelled like dog, but we were on our way. I looked down at my skirt and it had a big mud stain on the front as well as was wet.
We waited in line with about thirty other people for about twenty minutes and I was wondering what the heck was going on as I was told the ferry went every 10-15 minutes. Then someone shouted that this was the last ferry to Brooklyn, and I looked at Eleonora who had a shameful expression on her face. I grabbed the Newcomers Guide to New York from my bag and furiously flipped through it only to find that we were at the wrong place!
I turned on my heels and ran into the street whistled for a cab, and actually got the first one to stop and yelled ' South Ferry Terminal for Staten Island!', he pulled away quickly knocking the three of us back as he dodged cars and stopped traffic taking some back-roads as he called them across to the other side of the city. I saw a hotdog vendor actually jump to the side for fear of his life, and people were yelling at us. I looked at Jenny and thought maybe because I had yelled at him when I got in, he thought he had to drive like this. We whipped around corners, and even went the opposite way down a one way street before we came to a screeching halt and all three of us, hit the front seats with a thud. I, of course, cut my lip. He smiled triumphantly and held out his hand for his fair.
We got out still shaking from the crazy ride, only to see the ferry pulling away. We yelled, but a man told us not to worry, another would come soon enough, and would we like some coffee. He was reading my mind. I saw there sipping my coffee, smelling of dog, and tasting a little blood as I regained my composure for the party. I looked in a mirror on the opposite side of the table at the three of us, and we still looked great, all things considering, I say that says a lot of us girls. Nothing will stop us from being fabulous, not the heat, not a lost dog and not a crazy New York cabbie. I laughed to myself as the image of that dog alone in Jenny's flat came to mind, oh well. We could worry about that later. Now it was party time, and Staten Island was waiting.
- Stephanie Olivieri
I hopped into a cab that I found, by luck, on Broadway and 70th, and made my way down to pick up Eleonora and Jenny at the New York public library, where they were sitting on the steps people watching and soaking in some of the summer sun.
When I got there, they were dressed and ready, which delighted me and took me aback, because those two were never ready on time. Jenny stood up and announced triumphantly that they were even early, but she was standing in front of our friend and I was nervous about the reason why, and turns out, with good reason. There, sitting behind her, panting, drooling and sticking, was a gianormus dog thing that looked rather like a small horse. It came up to me and slobbered all over my new shoes. I felt a little bad, but I didn't really think we could bring a dog to Staten Island with us for this afternoon party.
Jenny threw her arms around his neck and exclaimed that she found a shelter that was on the way to the Brooklyn Army terminal to get the ferry. I agreed to take the dog with us. We walked out in front of the library and flagged down a cab who wouldn't take the dog, then another, and then another, when finally a towncar pulled up and a tall man in a dark suit asked us if we needed some help. I tried not to smile too brightly, as Byrne was still the love of my life, even if he was home playing video games on his new 60 inch tele. (Anyhow) Jenny introduced herself to him and explained what had happened and that we would love a ride. The three of us and the dog squished into the back.
He dropped us off at the shelter, where we had to tell the woman behind the counter, that we found the dog, and therefore couldn't actually drop him off without trying to find his owners first. I was wet and my shirt was sticking to my back because of the humidity, and I was feeling a bit faint. Having only coffee for breakfast, I knew that I needed some food.
We decided that we would take him with us to Jenny's and leave him before catching the ferry to Staten Island. An hour later, we were wet from sweat, we smelled like dog, but we were on our way. I looked down at my skirt and it had a big mud stain on the front as well as was wet.
We waited in line with about thirty other people for about twenty minutes and I was wondering what the heck was going on as I was told the ferry went every 10-15 minutes. Then someone shouted that this was the last ferry to Brooklyn, and I looked at Eleonora who had a shameful expression on her face. I grabbed the Newcomers Guide to New York from my bag and furiously flipped through it only to find that we were at the wrong place!
I turned on my heels and ran into the street whistled for a cab, and actually got the first one to stop and yelled ' South Ferry Terminal for Staten Island!', he pulled away quickly knocking the three of us back as he dodged cars and stopped traffic taking some back-roads as he called them across to the other side of the city. I saw a hotdog vendor actually jump to the side for fear of his life, and people were yelling at us. I looked at Jenny and thought maybe because I had yelled at him when I got in, he thought he had to drive like this. We whipped around corners, and even went the opposite way down a one way street before we came to a screeching halt and all three of us, hit the front seats with a thud. I, of course, cut my lip. He smiled triumphantly and held out his hand for his fair.
We got out still shaking from the crazy ride, only to see the ferry pulling away. We yelled, but a man told us not to worry, another would come soon enough, and would we like some coffee. He was reading my mind. I saw there sipping my coffee, smelling of dog, and tasting a little blood as I regained my composure for the party. I looked in a mirror on the opposite side of the table at the three of us, and we still looked great, all things considering, I say that says a lot of us girls. Nothing will stop us from being fabulous, not the heat, not a lost dog and not a crazy New York cabbie. I laughed to myself as the image of that dog alone in Jenny's flat came to mind, oh well. We could worry about that later. Now it was party time, and Staten Island was waiting.
- Stephanie Olivieri
[this is good] Excuse for that I interfere ? At me a similar situation. Is ready to help.
Posted by: Edwin Gentile | 05/09/2010 at 07:00 AM