Save the children
Last night, for instance...
While slouching with tired impatience at the edge of the subway platform in Grand Central, I vaguely noticed a girl, late teens or early twenties, standing next to me with a decidedly pissy look on her face. At first glance, all I noticed was the expression, in profile, and the fact that her t-shirt was green. But a few moments later she turned toward me, and I felt my mouth drop open in a mix of shock and wonder.
This, you see, was emblazoned upon the aforementioned green t-shirt:
It took me a moment to fully register this awestriking synchronicity, and then pull my gaze away so as not to appear a boob-starer. (I totally am a boob-starer, by the way; I just didn't want Miss Pissy-Face to know that.) I giggled to myself, suddenly feeling less alone. What a timely reminder that either a) there are others out there like me and I'm not a total freak, or b) everyone in the world really DOES read my blog, and they all want to be me! Either way, I was deeply pleased.
She turned to face the tracks. My gaze, unable to help itself, drifted back to her.That's when I noticed that she was pregnant.
You can imagine the amazing and much-needed jump my self-esteem took when it occurred to me that as emotionally malformed as I may be, at least I have the good sense not to reproduce.
Thanks, New York. I needed that.