Entry #4 – Don’t Look Them in the Eye – No, Wait, They’re Looking! They’re Looking!

I’m so sorry to be a day late!  I don’t really have an excuse for myself, though honestly I didn’t think a day or so would matter very much.  If you’re one of the people who told me that I’m stupid for thinking that way, and that you missed out on my usual Wednesday post, then thank you.  Thank you.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the idea of people actually reading something I’m writing.

It’s been a month, team, and I’m still here.  Still hale.  Still strong.  Still mad as a hatter for this impossible industry, but then again, that’s a prerequisite.  Still getting phone calls asking me if I’m safe.  Today my sister phoned and requested that I do my best not to get shot.  I’ll do my best.

Right before I moved, an avalanche of advice came pouring in, and quite a bit of it has turned out to be somewhat… contradictory. 

First of all, not being out after dark is silly and impossible.  It gets dark at 4:30pm, and you’d be surprised how packed the streets still are around three in the morning.

Secondly, Central Park is a safe place now.  You can go jogging and everything.  That scissor stabbing on October 1^st was a random incident.  I’ve heard about the 1980’s, guys, and we’re not going back to that.

In that vein, I ride the subway nearly every single day.  The main things you have to worry about are random incidents of nudity and varied levels of personal hygiene.

But what I really wanted to bring up was the whole issue of eye contact.  At some point in this veritable downpour of KAYLA DON’T DO THIS, someone told me that it was terribly unwise to make eye contact with anyone on the street.

I want you to picture me with my eyes firmly on the ground or off to the side or even (gasp!  KAYLA WE SAID NOT TO DO THIS IT WAS IN THE CODEBOOK LOOK AT THE INDEX UNDER THINGS THAT TOURISTS DO) looking up at the buildings around me.  For about three weeks, I did not look anyone I didn’t know in the eye.  As though if I were to do so, they would spring at me with a battle cry and a ballpoint pen, ready to savage me for violating a secret New York code.

I am ridiculous.  You know this.  If you didn’t know before now, well… I have just fixed that for you, haven’t I?

But I am also a person who doesn’t easily back down from a challenge.  Don’t get this confused with any sense of confidence or personal pride, it’s just that I’m secretly a kid and everything’s a game to me so if you start playing with me I am going to play back.

 

I started noticing people staring at me.  And I started thinking to myself, “Don’t they know that you’re not supposed to do that?”  And one day, I believe it was on the subway, I caught a woman staring at me because I had the excellent spot by the door.  I think she wanted it.  We probably both clambered onto the train at the same time and I just beat her to it, which in her mind, merited some serious no-staring code breaking.  She stared at me, and I, uncomfortably aware of my surroundings and just wanting to read something fantastic by Rainbow Rowell, tore my eyes away from the page before I could help it and I STARED BACK.

She was not expecting that.  After five full seconds, she looked away.  But I kept staring her.  I wanted her to know that I knew what she was up to.  If she wanted to stare at me again, she was welcome to, but under the condition that I would be staring right back.

That’s how the staring code works, you see.  When you stare, you give others the permission to stare, and as some close companions of mine might tell you, you don’t want to be on the wrong end of my stare.  I was given an award in high school for shutting people up with my icy gaze.  I’ve spent the years only refining it to a sharper point.

How could I go through my first few weeks in this treacherous city with such disregard to one of the best weapons in my arsenal?

Not to be abused, of course.  Like I said, for me, it's a game.  How long until I make you uncomfortable?  If you stare at me, besmirched riders of the subway, I will stare back.  And you will lose.  Every time. 

Fear me, people of New York.  I was born and raised in Seattle, and we are excellent at making you feel horrible about yourself with a silent, steely gaze.

But really, I’m still pretty afraid to look people in the eye around here.