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Why Battery Park is Amazing for People Watching

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01-Pigeon

I was lucky enough to go to Battery Park during the wonderful weather we are having for some good old-fashioned people watching. Here are some observations.

Razor Scooters are dangerous'

Judging by the number of children I saw take a spill on one.

Men in uniform look good from far away only.

Walking about the park were some lads on leave. I immediately got excited. As they came closer to my perch I was sorely disappointed at what I saw. For instance, from close up you can see the cheap quality of the polyester of the costumes'er um, I mean uniforms. In addition, it is difficult to pair, say a uniform with an accessory like, say, a backpack. It just seems, strange. It is hard to mix something like a uniform that is timeless with something as modern and pedestrian as a backpack. Some advice: gents, don’t do it. It breaks the whole mood. And by all means, stay across the street. I can fantasize from a distance.

12 year olds look good!

There are some serious fashionistas in this city. And I am not even talking about the adults. I truly admired many young adults I came across for the composition of their outfits. I am pretty sure that when I was a tween no one was taking tips from me. Thank you, gals, for interpreting the '˜roman sandal’ look for me. With the confidence you have given me I will definitely be trying it myself!

There are lots of '˜personal shoppers’ walking around.

By that I mean those men with giant bags of merchandise who approach you and ask you if you would like to buy a purse or a watch. I am very surprised by the numbers of folks with this particular job. Perhaps Battery Park is a congregation spot for the knock-off accessory traders? One of them complimented me on my sunglasses. I take that very seriously coming from someone in the fashion industry. I mean, those men know trends. I think it was a compliment. I definitely heard the words 'œhot' and 'œsunglasses'. On second thought, maybe he was saying that I could buy some hot sunglasses, not that I have hot sunglasses. Or maybe that he was hot and he needed some sunglasses. Anyway, there are a lot of people selling stuff walking around Battery Park'that is all I am saying.

batterypark

Here are some other folks I saw today:

Lovers.

Many, many nannies.

Tourists by the million.

I especially enjoyed one particular tourist lady who seemed to be killing time waiting for a friend. She was trying to occupy herself but couldn’t find a place to walk around nearby. She cycled through many New York landmarks that she would want to visit Times Square, Macys, Canal Street'the problem was they weren’t nearby. She ended up begrudgingly agreeing to occupy herself at the South Street Seaport'maybe that place is like Times Square? Maybe there is a Macy’s there? Can I get the same stuff as on Canal Street? '“ she seemed to be asking. New York IS the city of broken dreams.

More people I see:

Ice cream trucks with loooong lines.

Teenagers.

Pigeons.

Speaking of the wildlife update:

I am sitting in the park enjoying my sunshine and vitamin D. The grass is green with a light covering of trash in which plays a scraggly, blackened squirrel. There is a group of birds pecking and cooing behind me. I begin to get slightly freaked out. As I am pondering this very thought, I hear a few large splats before feeling warm liquid on my leg. I look down and my entire leg is covered in bird shit. I am amazed that the animal who did this is, number one, able to take flight based on how large it must be to have produced that much shit. And number two, that the offending animal has the skill to shit on the complete length of my leg and not on anything surrounding it.

Luckily no one saw the devastation. I surreptitiously pulled out my cardigan, wiped myself up, and threw that nasty thing away. It actually worked out because, based on the 12 year olds, I had deemed that cardi totally out of fashion.

I must be the luckiest girl ever.

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Christine Witmer - Sparing Stringer

Christine Witmer - Sparing Stringer

Christine was born and raised in the land of the Pilgrims, Plymouth, Massachusetts. She turned in her buckled shoes when she moved to NYC to attend NYU. From that esteemed University she received her BFA in theatre as well as a Master's Degree in Performance Studies in 2004.
Now an actor, writer and broke ass day-jobber, Christine juggles her many personas with the elegance of a red panda. specifically the one in the Prospect Park Zoo . . . soooooo cute! She can be found most often in her own habitat on the Northside of Williamsburg, Brooklyn.