Marc knows best…..

I’m stubborn.  That’s a fact.  I don’t like being told what to do, what not to do, and sometimes I do the opposite of what I’m told just to spite the person.  I do this to Marc all the time and he hates it lol.  Recently, I’ve started exploring Brooklyn, for a couple of reasons:

1.  I love Manhattan and Central Park and all that stuff, but it’s like, been there, done that; and

2.  Marc hates it when I go, which is all the more reason to keep going back.

 

I’ve been to Prospect Park, Flatbush/Prospect Park South, Red Hook (he really hated that one lol), DUMBO, Brooklyn Heights, Carroll Gardens, and Clinton Hill (and of course I’ve been to the Coney Island/Brighton Beach area).

 

My problem is that whenever Marc tells me not to go somewhere or that it’s dangerous, I feel the need to rebel and prove him wrong.  Like last weekend I went to Prospect Park again and ended up being there in the late afternoon, walking around the part of the park where he specifically told me not to go.  It’s a more secluded “wild” place, like the ramble in Central Park.  Anyway, I’m walking and I decide that it’s time to head back, before it gets dark.  I’m on the main road and I see coming towards me this lone black guy in baggy jeans and a hoody doing the “gangster limping walk” as I call it.  I look around.  No one.  Just me and this guy who I have a bad feeling about in a part of the park where there are oh so many places to hide a body….

 

I wasn’t too worried because I had my pepper spray (I don’t have that much of a death wish that I go to potentially dangerous places without it) and I had a pretty good idea of which way I needed to go to get back to the area with a lot of people.  So I turn off onto one side path, then another, then I look back, expecting that the guy’ll have kept going on the main trail and I can laugh at myself for being paranoid.  Nope.  He’s there, and closer than before.  I speed up so I’m just below jogging, and keep zig zagging on paths, telling myself that he’s probably just trying to get to the main area too, no big deal.  After what seems like forever (even though it was probably less than two minutes) I reach the top of the hill overlooking the field full of people.  I rush down the hill and turn around. The guy–who had been following me right up until the last minute–is gone….. that could have ended badly…..

 

A rational person might say “Okay, Marc was right, I should listen to him from now on.”  You know what I say?  “Well, nothing really happened, so why would I start listening to Marc now? It would totally ruin tradition” 😉

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