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PANTY RAID
To get the ol’ stunt ball rolling, I conspicuously tucked my dress inside the back of my panty hose and paraded around Union Square Park. After ten minutes of men rubbernecking but saying nothing, Nina, 33, clued me in to my indecent exposure. Later, on Central Park West, I walked five blocks before Clara, 48, whispered, “I think your panties are showing,” and then ducked into a nearby church. And at the Plaza on Fifth Avenue, it took only four minutes for Paula, 27, to address my problematic panties. When I thanked her, she said, “You’re welcome. I’d want someone to do it for me.” Seriously!
SIGN OF THE TIMES
Now here was something New Yorkers were willing to point out: a KICK ME!!! sign taped to my back. Every two minutes at the American Museum of Natural History, a soccer mom and her tyke would politely tap me on the shoulder. One mama even warned me to “watch out for the mean girls.” Lisa, 18, also mentioned the note. When I thanked her for being thoughtful, her guy friend crowed, “You’re lucky she told you about it, or I would’ve kicked you!” “Oh, yeah?” I shot back. “You’re lucky I’m telling you that your fly is open.” He glanced down at his 501s and promptly zipped them up.
LIPSTICK JUNGLE
I walked around town with lipstick smeared all over my teeth, and out of the 15 conversations I had with different New Yorkers, only Victor—a 35-year-old dad with Coke-bottle glasses—had the nerve to mention my tragic teeth. Not even Louisa and Elizabeth, with whom I spoke Spanish and bonded over our Puerto Rican heritage, said anything. So much for the tribe mentality!
THERE WILL BE BLOOD
I trekked all over NYC wearing a long white jacket and skirt with a faux period stain (ketchup and red food coloring did the trick). My first stop was Sympathy for the Kettle on St. Marks Place. No sympathy here—the patrons all stared in silence at my bloodbath. The crowd at Bloomies was mum too. Finally, I headed to FAO Schwarz in the hopes that a concerned parent might pull me aside. Instead, an employee muttered under his breath, “Oh, damn—that girl has more stains than the chick in Superbad.” Bottom line: If there’s blood on your bum, New Yorkers don’t have your back.
emily
Mon, Feb 18, at 08:07pm
oh my gosh A, ur so freaking hilarious. that's so bad to know people are so scared to let others know about crazy shiz!!
Andrea Williams
Sun, Feb 17, at 12:00am
Alexis, you are a brave woman! Nutty but courageous! :)
