On Wednesday I took the early Vamoose up to NYC to visit Allie for the day.
We enjoyed the fall weather by eating a slice of corner-pizzaria pizza, getting cupcakes from Magnolia and enjoying them in the park, shopping, riding the subway with various stinky individuals, playing peek-a-boo with Stella, and playing Smooth Moves and Rock Band all night long.
The perfect New York day.
Thursday I got to Penn Station a bit earlier than I'd expected. So, after grabbing a doughnut from Dunkin, I called Blake.
About 10 minutes into our conversation, I noticed that I was surrounded by a rather large group of adolescent Korean boys in grey suits.
Only moments later, they formed a semi-circle directly in front of me and began to sing.
I attempted to continue my conversation, but got more and more distracted as the boys started to sway and snap their fingers with the music. It was also about this time when I noticed that their leader had set up a booth next to them with informational pamphlets and complementary paper-back bibles, and that the songs they were singing (although poorly accented) were "come to Jesus" songs.
It's not that I don't want to come to Jesus, it's just that I don't want to be led to him by the Korean Von-Trap family. Plus, because I could no longer concentrate on my conversation, and because this kind scene only happens in the well scripted seasons of Gilmore Girls (Lane Kim, I feel your pain), I started walking quickly down the block in a less righteous-looking direction.
I thought I was safe. I was wrong. The further I walked, the more surrounded by young Koreans I became. They piled out of buses like kids at Disneyland, and ran to join their singing colleagues.
Then I saw a sign. A sign in the form of an advertisement on the "Fuse" board. Pastor Soo Something-or-Other is in town for the weekend directing a Bible camp.
I won't be attending.