At first, I thought I had some sort of sleeping disorder - the kind where you never want to go to bed and then, when you finally do, you get up at the crack of dawn because you still don't want to sleep. But now I am beginning to think it's my mind reminding me that I only have a month left in the city and I had better get up early and take advantage of everything.
On Friday night, after a long day at work, a home-cooked meal and a Sex and the City marathon with Kristy, Anne and Jess, I unset my alarm clock from its usual 6:00am setting and decided I was going to let myself "waste away" my Saturday morning under the covers. However, after the first blasts of the Circle line at 6:30, I was awake and unable to fall back asleep. Powerless against my body's desire to want to be outside in the midst of all the action, I jumped (or rather crawled) out of bed and decided to hit up my second favorite pancake restaurant (which conveniently happens to be the Amish Market next door) for some strawberry goodness.
While I sat reading my latest girly novel, tourists began to flood the upstairs seating area, setting down their cameras, maps, and fanny packs to eat their breakfasts. Most were foreign or Southern - which was made obvious as soon as they opened their mouths - and my favorite family included a father and his two younger children. It was very noticeable through their similar features that the young boy and girl were siblings, although the boy had a good two years on his six-year-old little sister. As the father, who already seemed a bit stressed at 8 in the morning, sat them down and asked them what they wanted, the boy demanded eggs, bacon, potatoes, pancakes with lots of syrup and chocolate chips, watermelon and both milk and orange juice, while the girl complained to her father that there was nothing there she liked.
After a few minutes and a long lecture about not moving from the table or getting into any trouble while he was ordering, the father returned from downstairs with almost the boy's entire request and a full-size box of fruit loops and milk for the picky young girl. I sat there and eavesdropped on their conversation about loose teeth and the next day's Easter brunch at grandma's house. Part of me wished that I could call them later on in the week to find out if grandma really did leave chucks in the potatoes and whether the tooth, that was only hanging by a string, finally came out.
One of my favorite activities living in the city includes being able to sit for hours in little coffee shops or markets and just listen and watch the tourists discovering the city. Sometimes I find myself getting annoyed with the crowded streets and masses of people, but I love to walk next door and be entertained by families that I will most likely never see again. An obvious resident of the city, made apparent by my pajamas, flip-flops and relaxed, comfortable manner, I love answering questions about how to get to the ferry, where to catch the subway, or how to get to Ground Zero. Although I was in desperate need of a nap, after three hours in the Amish Market I left satisfied, full of everyone else's conversations and some great strawberry pancakes.
