Monday, September 18, 2006

Slutty Socks in the City

My socks? They get around! They have been out and about and hit all of the major modes of NYC transportation. They first popped out for some knitting at the last off the Gazillion Dollar Sock class*. Of course I didn't finish them, so I whipped them out for some knitting on the train into NYC.

Socks! On a train!

A friendly piece of advice, if you see a cute train conductor on the train who is stamping tickets, and you want to scare him to death, and make him shake his head vehemently, put his hands up as if to ward you off, and back away as quickly as possible, I suggest asking him to hold and pose with your knitting for a picture. Once you scare him away to the amusement of other passengers, you can just take a picture of your knitting on the train, which will really not look like anything special but will fulfill your need to take a picture of your knitting on the train for your blog.

Besides scaring the pants off (I wish!) of the cute train boy, I did manage to get some knitting done and talk to some nice people. Due to train malfunction, we had an unexpected train change, and I ended up sitting next to three people total. The first two, a middle-aged woman and a college-aged woman, were very nice - they asked questions about the socks, but then left me alone to knit. The third woman, an older grandmotherly lady, killed several stereotypes. Not once did she ask about my knitting (thus disproving that all old ladies love to knit), she never once smiled at me or acknowledged me in anyway (thus disproving that little old ladies are sweet), except as we were about to stop. As we arrived at Grand Central Station, she said to me, "Miss, you might want to learn to sit with your legs closed, like a lady." To which I replied, "Lady, you might want to learn to smile, like a human being." Ok, that last bit was totally false, but she did give me a dirty look when I sat indian-style-cross-legged so that my yarn had a clear path for knitting so I gave her a big ole shit-eating grin. She sniffled at me.

Despite the last woman on the train, my socks were not going to hide in their bag. They next came out on the bus.

Socks! On a bus!

A bus, which I had not planned to ride, but did after waiting 35 minutes for a taxi and not moving up one inch in line.** I again was forced to take a nondescript picture of the socks because the bus driver was a bit scary. He told me I was putting my money in wrong (you dump it all in at once and pray that it processes correctly and doesn't say, get gummed up so that the machine eats a quarter and you become screwed because you don't have anymore change and people are getting mad at you while you look through every nook and cranny of your purse praying that a quarter escaped the confines of your wallet and is sitting in the bottom of your bag waiting to become bus fare) and he told me to pay attention for my stop because he wouldn't point it out. Um, ok. I met a nice older lady who admired my sock and explained the wonder of the NYC transit bus system and made sure I didn't miss my stop. FYI, they stop about every two blocks so don't ring the bell too soon or you will depart at the wrong place.

After the bus, my knitting relaxed in the nice hotel. The hotel which provided a complimentary toothbrush:

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and really good air conditioning:

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Sweet! After a restful evening, the socks were ready to tackle the NYC Knit-Out. To get to the Knit-Out, the socks took a cab.

Socks! In a cab!

The cab driver was crazy and tried to scam the system by not turning on the meter and keeping the fare for himself - weenie! - and I think he got secret pleasure in my mumbled curses when his crappy driving made me drop a stitch. Needless to say, the stitch was recovered and the socks were put away. Bad Driver! Bad! Anywho, the socks and I arrived at the Knit-Out in one piece (good thing I had a crochet hook or we might have arrived in pieces).

Praise Jebus it was HOT! The socks saw little action during the fashion show as I was too busy fanning myself. Speaking of which, check out this little knitted gem:

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Do you see the HUGE knitted circle on her head?!? Halo? I dunno. The outfit had other rings attached to it, but I was struck stupid by the outfit and couldn't gather my picture taking wits until it was almost too late.

The socks were also amazed by the HUGE lines of people waiting for free wooden needles. It went on:

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and on:

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These people waited for hours for WOODEN needles. Not even, like, expensive Addis. Needles that would cost maybe $7. Unbelievable.

In any event, after the fashion shows, the socks, and my SnB buddies, went in search of sustenance. We found some yummy Mexican food, where Ernesto made guacamole at the table. He went from this:

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to this:

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The socks enjoyed some guacamole and beer with another sock and a fingerless glove.

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Good times were had! The socks finally made it home, where they are relaxing from their adventures in the city.

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* The Gazillion Dollar sock class turned out to be a fun experience. It was pricey, though not as pricey as what I thought it was going to be, but worthwhile. I learned a new technique which I will use over and over (if I make more socks, which I am sure I will) and I feel like I can now ask two people in that shop for assistance if I need it. The owner is still a bit weird to me, sometimes nice sometimes cold, but I think it is her personality and not her dislike of me. I would take another class there if it was within my budget.

** For the first time in my life I claimed to be "from Connecticut." For some reason I have always avoided that; when asked I say, "I live in Connecticut but I am from Florida." While in the taxi line from hell, however, I claimed Connecticut. A little Public Safety Officer was asking people where they were going so that he could help them get there faster since the taxis were all MIA. I told him where I was going but he had nothing for me, until thirty-five minutes had passed. He said, "I don't know how you feel about buses, but that M104 is going right to where you need to be." I replied, "I feel good about buses, heck, I'd feel good about sprouting wings and flying at this rate, but I am from Connecticut and don't know what you have to do to ride a bus. In Connecticut we drive cars." Um, WTF? Too much information! He laughed and was helpful, but I walked away shaking my head at myself.

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