City Safari: Spots & Shells

It's roughly 7 AM on the 7th of April, 2024. Just two days ago, around 10 AM, an earthquake shook up the state of New Jersey and sent tremors to the heart of NYC. We got hit with a 4.8 earthquake, and to be honest, it wasn't really a big deal. I had an existential crisis/panic attack about three hours after the quake, but that's because I got way too high and had recently been rejected from a few jobs I applied for. All that to say, the earthquake wasn't the biggest thing to have occurred in the upcoming days.

Now, if you can't tell, I'm unemployed, which means I have a lot of free time on my hands, and apparently, I'm an old man who likes to take strolls. These strolls vary from being very introspective/deep/depressing walks to artful/vibey/purposeful walks to get in the right headspace. So, one morning on the 7th of April, I aim to be as productive as possible today. Get up, get a cup of coffee, do some laundry, and clean the apartment with the wife. We are productive today, busy bees doing what needs to be done to live in a clean space, while I personally make sure I'm in the right headspace. So, I make sure to conveniently fit in a stroll or two when the laundry is getting done.

Now, I usually hit the park that's nearby the apartment for my strolls — it's a decent space that's a short distance away, with a track. So, after hitting the laundromat — just putting the laundry in the wash, which gives me about a 30-minute walk at least. Not really a morning person, but today, I'm up and ready to go out and have either a very introspective walk or a good vibey walk.

Now, I bounce around from playing some lo-fi/jazz, firing up a podcast about ad tech, or walking in silence. For this one, I went with the latter and headed to the park a short distance away. I enjoyed a bit of a pre-roll I got at an edible bakeshop from Bay Ridge, a great place for some edible baked goods. While I indulge in my vices and continue on my walk, I notice a figure behind me on the track who is holding a case securely on his person. It's a clear case, and I only noticed because I slowed my pace and he passed me at some point. This clear case now became an obsession of mine. Maybe it was the pre-roll, or maybe it was the existential crisis that happened two days ago. Why walk around with a clear case, I say? What's inside this case? What is so important?

I trail behind this man with the clear case and notice that he recognized someone in the distance. I squint my eyes to get a better look, and I notice this loud apparel-wearing clothed man stretching on the park bench, waving to his friend — the friend with the clear case. Now, this loud apparel-wearing clothed man wore a leopard-patterned fur jacket, which just felt like a lot for a Sunday morning. As the friend with the clear case walks up to leopard jacket, I finally get a better glimpse at the contents of the clear case... The leopard jacket points at the turtle excitedly! The friend with the clear case was carrying a turtle. A turtle within the case. I found this weird for some reason. Why is this guy delivering a turtle to a person wearing a leopard-patterned jacket? My mind races at the possibilities and the oddity of it all while I continue to walk on the track.

Now, I'm ahead of the guy with the turtle and leopard jacket as my mind tries to come to terms with this rare sight. I begin to think, how many times would I see something like this? As the two individuals now trail behind me, I begin to rationalize it as being normal. Then, I hear a hello from the sidewalk on the right side of the track, outside of the park. It looks like the guy who said hello knows both of the individuals, and they somehow start talking about their walking schedules in the park. So now, I'm thinking that this is a regular occurrence for the guy with the turtle, and I judge myself for finding it weird and odd. My mind is spiraling on this 30-minute stroll, waiting for the washer to be done at the laundromats so I can transfer the items from the washer to the dryer.

With this new revelation of the meaning of normalcy, I return to the laundromat and proceed to remove my items from the washer. Still coming to grips with reality as I transfer the laundry to the dryer, I notice the dryer door won't close. This results in me almost breaking the door in frustration since it won't close, causing the attendant at the laundromat to rush over to stop me from damaging the dryer door. I'm cooked. Saw a turtle going for a walk with a leopard, and now I'm wrecking the laundromat. I muster up an apology and put my quarters in, counting slowly to make sure I time everything right, and I get out of dodge and return to the confines of our apartment building around the corner.