Winter storm Niko produced hazardous conditions in New York.

Out of my Comfort Zone

Last week Mother Nature dumped about ten inches of snow on New York City. From my hotel window, I saw that few people were walking or driving. I turned on the news and the newscaster said that the blizzard conditions were deadly because a doorman had slipped while shoveling and had fallen through a window and died. They were warning people to stay off the streets. Though I was in New York to see my daughter, J, the news report made me think about falling on the ice, and I was apprehensive about leaving the hotel. I had already fallen twice in New York, and wine was not involved.

 

The first time, I was walking on a pretty day with J, and I tripped over a sidewalk crack and I was down on all fours. Ok, I really tripped over my own feet.

 

J had said, “Mother, get up before someone falls over you and hurts themselves, you’re fine.” Though I was shaken, I got up like nothing had happened.

 

The second time I had fallen, I was wearing boots with little tread and it was snowing. I was sliding all over the sidewalk like I was on greased ice. I resembled a three-year old that had never ice skated before, and I grasped my husband’s arm like it was the wall that child clung to as he encircled the ice rink.

 

When I almost pulled my husband down he said, “What’s wrong? No one else that is walking is acting like you. Let me see the bottom of your boots.”

 

I lifted my smooth-bottomed Ugg. He said, “We’re buying you boots.”

 

Unfortunately, I didn’t get those boots fast enough, because within minutes, I slipped and fell on my back. Since I had already made a scene, my friends laughed because they thought that I fell on purpose. Did they really think that I would lie on the dirty New York street in my dress coat just to entertain them?

 

I was thinking about these previous trips, when J called and said that it was just slush and she insisted we go out. She is determined that I am not acting old no matter what, and she digs me out of my comfort zone.

 

She said, “My eighty-year-old superintendent is out shoveling snow, so if he can go out, you can too.”

 

J had come to get me, and I stepped outside and tentatively took a few steps on the sidewalk to determine if it was slippery.

 

“Mom, if you walk like that, it looks like you are trying to fall, so can you just walk like everyone else?”

 

I walked but watched the road for ice. J was ahead and she casually glanced back ensuring that I wasn’t sprawled on the ground. As we walked to J’s apartment, I told her that I was not relishing ascending the steps to her sixth-floor apartment, actually twelve-half flights, but who’s counting unless you are gasping for breath.

 

J said, ” There are 80 year olds that live up there, and they take the steps everyday and carry groceries, it just takes them a little longer. If they can do it, so can you.”

 

After visiting her apartment, we walked her neighborhood. I was glad that we had this time together and when I left, I thought about those snow-shoveling-eighty-year-olds. I know that I will live a fuller life if I listen to J, but I hope that she doesn’t kill me in the process.

 

Related Posts

 

https://dorothyadele.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/growing-older-but-still-having-fun/

230 Fifth in Manhattan — A Must Visit

We step up to the most extensive rooftop bar in Manhattan, 230 Fifth on 27th and 5th Avenue. The Empire State Building towers past palm trees and pink and white flowers that spill from containers.

The Manhattan skyline offers a spectacular view as we sip a cocktail and escape from mad-motion Manhattan. Even though the weather is drizzly and chilly, the patio is partly heated, and customers don soft red robes provided by the staff. Large umbrellas hover over tables for added protection.

During harsh weather or if a nightclub atmosphere is preferred, customers can enjoy the view from the fully enclosed lounge a floor below.

230 Fifth is open every day from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. and serves brunch on Saturdays and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The cost is $29 for adults and $15 for children.

They offer an appetizer through dessert menu and bottle service. With bottle service, a customer can buy a bottle of alcohol for several times the retail price like a Grey Goose Magnum for $575.

The food and drinks are also pricey. The cost for a Chicken Caesar Salad is $16, and a Strawberry Mimosa is $15.

Though expensive, the spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline makes the price palatable. Anyway, where else can you wear a robe in a bar?

20140705-131506-47706767.jpg

Manhattan Bicycle Rickshaw/Pedicab Scam

 

A pedi-cab in Times Square in NYC days before the new years 2011 party. Photo taken on: December 25th, 2010

Credit line:© Michael Ludwig | Dreamstime.com

A pedicab driver scammed my daughter and me in Manhattan recently. My daughter and I Christmas shopped for several hours one day in December. As we walked towards our hotel, we decided to climb into a bicycle rickshaw. The driver gave us a heavy wool blanket and rolled down a thick plastic sheet for warmth. Our pedicab weaved in and out of swarming -yellow taxicabs. Some came within inches of our cart. I contemplated jumping out, but I stayed to enjoy the relaxing adventure with my daughter.

 

After six blocks of horn-screaming bumper-to-bumper traffic, my heart was pounding. I had enough fun.

I was looking forward to a great dinner with my family, so I wasn’t ready to die in a pedicab. (They would never let me live it down.)

When we exited the rickshaw, the driver said that we owed him $40. As I questioned him about the price, a man pulled up next to us and asked about our discussion. I said that the driver charged us $40 for pedaling six blocks. When the man glared at the rickshaw driver, I knew that we were scammed.  I tossed $20 to the rickshaw driver and walked away.

I researched pedicab companies to learn the appropriate cost for pedicab rides. The Central Park Pedicab Tour site’s price list seems reasonable. Also, The NYC Pedicab Owners’ Association offers tips to avoid scams. My advice is to negotiate a price before climbing into a bicycle- rickshaw -death trap.

What has been your experience with pedicabs in Manhattan?