this is my new york: it's goin' down like

After making them apologize for a few hundred times for being late, the three of us headed towards our first stop – the Brooklyn Bridge. I detest maps because it usually alters one’s perception of space. Surprisingly though, Mickey’s map, or rather his sense of direction, guided us through the easiest route. In no time we found ourselves a few steps away from the foot of the bridge. The rest of the block that we have to cross was disgustingly covered with pigeon droppings. And all we could exclaim was "oh sh*t!". Pun intended.

As far as I know, there’s nothing historically significant about Brooklyn Bridge. And its appeal to me is pretty much similar to how I appreciate the San Juanico Bridge. I don’t.

Perhaps my dislike, or indifference to bridges stem out of my fear of heights, coupled with the fact that I’ll literally be traveling, for a couple of miles, on an archaic structure which is suspended over a body of water which goes beyond my threshold of five feet. I’ve seen enough horror and sci-fi movies that warrant my fear of bridges. What if it suddenly collapses? Or worse, what if a monster or a super villain appears (ala Magneto in X3)? Broad daylight won’t stop them from attacking. Not especially when they realize that I’m on the bridge.

“Merong scene sa Sex and the City dito sa Brooklyn Bridge eh. Di ba Mickey?”

Josie’s words pulled me back from my dreadful thoughts. We've managed to reach the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge and now we're halfway back. And throughout, we’ve narrowly avoided being hit by a cyclist, skateboarder and pedestrians. Pick one. What's inevitable though is the glaring heat of the sun. It’s so hot! Much hotter than Manila, I say. And it's only nine in the morning. I’m betting that I’ll have the tan that I never wanted after this trip.

“What did you just say,” I said as I stopped walking and attempted to look at the traffic below.

“Merong scene sa Sex and the City dito,” she repeated as she sat on the bench.

“No.” I turned to Mickey and asked, “nanunuod ka ng Sex and the City?” This was followed by a mutter declaring that I’m already parched and hungry.

“Yun yung pinanuod namin sa sine. Yun kasi yung gusto ni TL,” he shrugged, and frowned, as he handed me a muffin and a bottled water. “Ayan, pinagbaon ka namin.”

“Uy talaga?” I smiled as I took it from him. “Salamat ha! Tara na,” I added as I gestured for us to head back to New York City.


“If you’re looking at Brooklyn Bridge, you know you’re looking at New York City.”

That’s what people say. Well if they’re referring to the indifferent and rude locals who seemingly forgot to bring their good manners in their hurry to shed a few pounds and burn carbs while doing their laps on the bridge, regardless if they accidentally step on a helpless tourist’s shoes, or worse, shove an innocent passerby off the metal railings of the walkway and into the traffic or the water below (which would kill the poor creature either way), then they’re not painting a very good picture of New York City.

However, it does exponentially magnify the thoughtfulness of that simple act from Mickey and Josie. Something historical in my book. Something that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.