Peace of mind at the North-Pole of Brooklyn (Pulaski Bridge, Greenpoint)

Finding peace of mind in Brooklyn isn't easy. I imagine finding it in Queens isn't that easy either, so I thought maybe going halfway between them might help.

It didn't

I'm sitting on the Pulaski Bridge, named after Kazimierz Puławski, the Polish American Revolutionary and fought valiantly alongside George Washington and died in battle in Savannah Georgia in 1779. (for more: Wikipedia.org/Kazimierz_Puławski) I knew I girl last summer who lived right under the Brooklyn side. Entendre intended. Sweet girl, a bartendress at a place I hung out often. I once helped her boot a couple of pricks that wouldn't leave when asked politely. Ran into her a couple times after and then she sends me an email out of the blue asking me out.

We had a thing from June to August, but it was a stifling, humid, miserable, smelly summer and i was in no place to be intimate. One unbearably hot night while we were halfway "through" I decided I couldn't stand being that close to another sweaty body and I tried to find a polite, un-offensive way to tell her to please just get off of me.

There is no polite, un-offensive way to tell a girl to please just get off of me.

She left in tears and that was that.

During our sweeter days I'd spend the night at her place, get an iced coffee the next morning at the local Hipster caffiene-fix joint and walk across the Pulaski to the 7 train which brought both of us to work in 10 minutes. She had the most unbelievable view of the city skyline from her place.

It's been almost a week since I last smoked weed, which is the longest I've gone in years. I have to clean out for a new job I'm getting in May. One-time piss test when I start and then I plan on getting back on the bowl immediately. It's a good test though. So far, all it's done is made me irritable and fatigued which is funny. I seem to have more energy and am more productive when I'm blazed then when I'm clean, even if it is a very short-attentioned energy. Now that Iu'm more focussed and clear-headed, it's forced me to confront some of my issues.

Writer's block being the first on my mind. Seems like all I can write about these days is myself. Big surprise.

Love life is also on the forefront, and how all I've been able to do recently is rack up one failed prospect after another. See, with my Under-the-Bridge babe, I knew off the cuff that I wasn't that into her. But she was cute, and sweet, and fun. And the fact that she had the gonads to track down my email and ask me out was reason enough to give it a good college try. I don't regret a second of it. Well, maybe the way it ended. . .

Seems like most girls I go out with these days last three or four dates, and regardless of how good it's seeming, drop me the second it starts to seem like it might get serious. What is it with New Yorkers and an irrational fear of commitment? The polite ones have the decency to tell me, and not just avoid me all together.

Greenpoint is a fascinating place. Like a little slice of Poland, except not a complete and utter cultural failure. Everywhere there are pretty blondes, all tits, hips, and cheekbones alongside beefed up guys in tight shirts, with pale skin, buzz-cuts and big noses. There are more Delis than traffic lights. Maybe I'll grab a keilbasa sandwhich on my way back.

I decided to call Ms. Under-The-Bridge on my way out. We've been dancing around trying to get together since we split, the few times we finally did were brief and uninteresting. I told her I was coming out to the bridge for a little peace of mind. Thought I'd watch the sunset over the Greatest Skyline in the World.

The cloud cover prevented that. So did the intense wind and the endless rumble of cars over the drawbridge. My latest prospect told me that she'd call me when she got off work. It's 7:30. Still no call. My pocket's vibrating maybe thats-

Nope. Ms. Under-the-Bridge.

"Hey!! Are you okay??" She asked urgently
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" Relieved sigh
"Jesus, you said you were going up to the bridge for "peace of mind" I thought you were going to kill yourself or something" I burst out a laugh
"God, no! I have a big job this weekend. Christ, I have a load of laundry I need to put in the dryer, I'm not going to kill myself!"

We laughed, caught up a bit. Made plans to get together again some time soon, both skeptical of the likelihood of that. It was getting cold. I figured I'd pick up some sort of meat sandwich at one of the thousand deli's in the local hood on my way home.

Kill myself. Hah. If I was going to jump from a bridge, I'd do it from the Brooklyn, go out in style. Jumping