Well, tho I tried not to, I did it again. In the eight years I have lived north of the Mason-Dixon line, I have fallen due to snow in no less than seven. Somehow, despite a ton of snow last year I managed to stay upright. And, with only one major snowfall this year, I thought I would foil it again. But, sadly, no.

I left work about five minutes early yesterday, rushing to meet Patrick at The Chocolate Room before it got too busy to get a table. I circumvented the really deep puddle on the corner and gingerly stepped across the street. I hustled down one set of stairs and was in the middle of the second set when my still-slippery shoes got the better of me and down I went.

Yes, that's right, I fell down the stairs in the subway. And not just any subway station, but Times Square, the busiest station in the network. Sounds of alarm were heard around me as I tumbled in slow motion. In all, I only went down about 4 or 5 steps before I stopped myself (I would like to note also that a kind-hearted fellow New Yorker was standing just in front of where I stopped with her hands out to catch me.)

Before you get alarmed (Mom) I am fine. I have a bruise on my hand but that's it. But what you (Mom) and Kerry will hopefully understand, being equally graceful as I am, is the sheer embarrassment as well as the appreciation of the drama that I couldn't fall when no one was looking, or in less crowded Brooklyn. I had to make a grand entrance to the number 2 train at Times Square.

Thank you. No applause is necessary. |