Manhattan brat rant.

I love children. Really, I do. You should have seen me for the entirety of the run of Sound of Music, my eggs were dropping every time I turned around. And these were children - not babies. Average age was 9 years old. God knows, if there's a baby around, I'm toast. Just melted butter on the floor. BUT - there is something about the parents in Manhattan that make me want to strangle them and their children who will, no doubt, grow up to be just as oblivious and inconsiderate as their parents.

Night before last I was standing in line to see the Macy's Thanksgiving balloon inflation. I was alone, but my friends were meeting me and I was holding our place in line. There was 1 set of parents and children in strollers just in front of me, and another set of parents and strollers behind me. These rich oblivious Manhattanites behind me would push their strollers up so close that they were TOUCHING the back of my heels, and their children would yank on the tail of my coat and scream. Ok, maybe the 1st time I can forgive you, it's a crowded city, no use being all angry when you brush up against someone else. But it continued so that the people behind me kept sandwiching me so close to the people in front of me I was literally touching them. I thought I would try NOT moving up when the line moved forward until I had breathing room. Nope, they just squished in around me, running over the back of my heels and looking at me as if I was crazy for not walking up so close to the people in front of me I was actually in their buttholes.

I try not to let NYC crap get to me, but it's just common courtesy not to run over the backs of people's heels - repeatedly, and unapologetically, right? I also find it hard not to judge them based on the fact that since they can clearly afford to have children and live in Manhattan, they probably have never set foot in a subway station, have enormous Crate & Barrel apartments that they pay $5,000/month for, have poor actor receptionists (who pay $800/month for their Queens apartment) bring them their Starbucks every morning, have their nannies shop at Whole Foods for everything, and have no idea what the smell of Manhattan sewage is like. They're not real New Yorkers. So please, step away from my heels with your stroller.

Ok, I'm done. Sometimes I just need to purge the NYC from my system. I'm better now. :-)