Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The Mysterious Adventures of Best Selling Author, S.J. Dennery: A Day In the Life of a Road Hound by: S.J. Dennery

A Travel Blog: Part One

Are you ready to go on a stupendous journey to New York City? It’s been a while since I've been there, a place with the latest fashions, and a plethora of exotic cuisine, but it’s also a place where strange things happen. You can expect the unthinkable, deviance is expected but detested and there’ll be lots of things to tickle your fancy.

        Everyone took their seats on the bus while a lady, I’ll call Nancy rushed to the bus just before the door closed. Nancy looked for a seat in the back of the bus but she didn't find one. She looked to her right where rays of sunlight rested upon an empty window seat.

     “I’d like to sit there,” she said to the woman sitting in the aisle seat.
     “You can't sit here. Can't you sit in the back?” Rue said crankily.
      “I need a seat. Can you please move your stuff?” Nancy replied with a stern swift tone as she pointed to a blanket lying on the chair.
     Rue moved her stuff begrudgingly, eased her feet into the aisle and Nancy sat down. Rue turned her back to Nancy and looked stoically into the aisle at other passengers. From that point onward, Rue and Nancy were mortal enemies. During the ride, Rue complained to the bus driver that the woman next to her was touching her inappropriately.
   “Get a grip,” Nancy belted out. “I'm just reading my newspaper.”
      “I don't roll like that... I am a married woman. I believe in God.” Rue snapped back as she amped into full-on bitch mode.
     I cringed in my seat. Don’t bring God into this. He may not approve of your behavior. Despite the occasional disturbance we continued to our destination.
The bus took a short break along the way; everyone got off. I stayed on the bus. After the break was over, a slew of passengers loaded the bus.
   “Is anyone missing?” The driver asked. No one responded. 
   I looked across the aisle. “Yes, there's a women missing.” 
  The bus driver waited for five minutes. Nancy hustled to the bus. Rue shot a nasty glare my way, I bottled it and opened a novel I brought along to chase time. I glanced at the landscape outside; it was beautiful and the temperature was toasty but inside the bus was freezing. On another stop, I got off the bus and bought a pack of Duplex, not so yummy low-grade cookies.

    A few hours later the bus pulled into 42nd Street, Times Square. The streets of New York City are unlike any other city. It comes with a unique smell, feel, and a smorgasbord of interesting people. It’s a delectable multicultural environment with a unique groove and there's lots of eye and ear candy. I looked up at a cluster of skyscrapers; I was able to distinguish one of them, the Empire State Building. Just about anyone could, even if you've never visited the city before.

     There was a moment when I swore I’d spotted the missing link. A guy lovingly stroked the mustache of his lady, and another had the hairiest back-bush I've ever seen. I’m thrilled to be out of the bus, but I’m moving on to another means of transportation, the train. It’s the fastest way to get around the city but it can try one’s patience at times. Thankfully, the ride doesn't last long. I’m above ground walking on the lean and at the moment anti-climactic streets.
    I approached a street vendor who had a display of adorable baby turtles in small aquariums for sale on the Avenue. I’m fond of turtles; maybe I can bring them with me when I leave New York but I've heard that they aren't safe, so I won’t entertain that thought any further. I continued walking; a lot of people walked by. Many things have changed since I've last visited this area; some for the better, others, for the worse. For example, my favorite restaurant is no longer in the area. I’m disappointed but I won’t lose any sleep over it.

    I was distracted while window shopping by a women wearing a white T-shirt as a dress in front of a store I was about to enter. The shirt went down to just above the lower half of her buttocks, leaving the cusp out for the entire world to see. She was a pretty girl too. Somewhere her mother’s eyes are burning. I tried to delete the image from my mind, walked into the women’s store and browsed until I found the bra section. I found a cute bra and stood in the line at the register.

     While I waited in line, a guy at the end of the line started shaking a can of Planters nuts for about a minute. The shaking stopped abruptly; the black of my eyes traveled to him. He shook the can again and it slipped from his grasp. The can fell on a baby sitting peacefully in a stroller. The baby shot him a 'really?' look. The baby’s mother craned her neck, piercing the man who'd dropped the can with her eyes. Her angry glare softened as she saw that the man stood on crutches with one of his pant leg folded and pinned back at the knee.
    “I’m sorry Ma’am,” he said, reached down, picked up the can and adjusted the crutch under his arm.
     Don't shake your nuts in public someone might get hurt. It was my turn at the register; five minutes later I left the store happy to be free of the nut-shaker. I’d built up an appetite after shopping; I crossed the street and entered Wendy's. 

Everyone stared at me when I entered.  Am I the first human being they've seen in months? The thought simmered in my head.


I wasn't amused. It was crowded, and noisy. I stood in line for a while before I placed an order. The food arrived but they didn't provide a straw for my drink or any napkins and there weren't any condiments or anything else that I needed in the lobby.
     “Can I have a straw and some napkins, please?” I asked. 

“Napkins?” “Napkins?” “Napkins?” 

The cashier didn't hear me the first, second, or third time.
My simple request morphed into a slow perilous Ferris Bueller’s Economics teacher kind of slur. 

 “Straw?” “Straw?”  “Straw?”


Feeling utterly ignored, I walked away and looked for a seat. Note to self: Never come to this Wendy's again---Ever! They should demolish this cesspool and start from scratch.

      I left my tray with a friend while I went to the bathroom but the bathroom was out-of-order. Livid, I walked back to our table, sat down, and ate. If the urge to lick my fingers came to mind, I’d hope that today wasn't the day. Dirty hands and food should never mix but I’m hungry. I lifted the  cover off my drink and drank.
      An older lady walked into Wendy's. “Can anyone spare a dollar? I need to feed my three children.”
She sang from the moment the door closed behind her and walked pass me asking any and every one for change. I finished my drink, left Wendy’s and walked to the subway station. My train was about to leave, so I hasten my steps.

      “Move your fat ass,” A guy shouted at a woman in front of him. He pushed pass her and ran ahead to catch his train. That was rude of him. I made it to my train in time and slid through the doors like Crispin Glover, the creepy ‘thin man’ in Charlie’s Angels. 

   An hour and a half later, I left the belly of the train and walked a couple of blocks to my hotel. I survived my first day back in the city. I can’t decide what I was most excited about, washing my hands or taking a nice hot bath. Either way, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

                                      To be continued...

My thoughts: 

Thank you, S.J. Dennery for sharing your travel blog with us. I enjoyed reading about your time in New York City, a place I love despite its faults. It was extremely entertaining.  I can't wait to read part two. 

S.J. Dennery is the author of the young adult paranormal mystery, The Mysterious Musings of a Precarious Heart. She is also a junior in high school.