one more reason I love New York

Remember on Sunday when I was reading Infinite Jest, and I got so crazy to play tennis that I just packed up all my gear and rode my bike around the warehouses looking for a backboard, and the first one I went to had some man there who was like, “Hey! What are you doing?” and I was like, “I want to hit a tennis ball against this wall, is that ok?” and he was like, “You want me to throw you ball?” and I said, “Nooooo, I want to hit a ball with this racquet [pointing to bag] against that wall [pointing to brick wall],” and he looked confused and sent someone else to ask a manager, who came back and told me no, there are insurance issues and it’s an old wall, saying, “A brick could come loose and fall on you and you would sue,” and even though I insisted I would never do such a thing and would be standing 20 feet away from said wall anyway, it didn’t seem like a fight I could win, and so I rode across the street to the Lowe’s parking lot, where there’s a big warehouse backed up against the parking lot and no strange men hanging around asking questions, and I hit against the wall for about an hour, even though I thought I’d have to stop when a security guard kept coming by in his car with a yellow light flashing on the top, he never even really seemed to notice me, he just drove by slowly staring off into the distance looking for car or siding thieves or graffiti kids or something, but I did get some looks from customers who thought it was pretty funny that a girl would be out on a Sunday bashing a tennis ball against a wall in the blazing sun of a parking lot of a megastore on the Gowanus, where 100 feet away cranes lifted trash into a barge and sea gulls drifted high above me but never made a sound, at least not one I could hear because I was busy smashing massive on balls and running around like a crazy person?

Because I do.