Local Patriotism

I didn't get to say goodbye to Alice. Not fully dressed anyways. It was my last session and I think despite of how good Alice was at hiding her feelings, she enjoyed our time together. She told Kelly, her assistant, to let me know I should call to make another appointment, in case I feel it is necessary. I don't think it will happen though.

I'm gladly returning to the low-maintenance girl I used to be, giving up my newly found appeal to China Town (that probably originates in the appeal I find to Jack Nicholson). Although it's raining I'm walking slowly, happy to be heading to the ultimate East at the end of the day. Not the Middle one, not the Upper but two stops on the L east to the Island - Brooklyn 11211.

China Town

It's been two weeks since my back ache incident, or as I prefer to call it: my ballet injury. I have fully recovered from a surprisingly sore experience with a stupid spasm. Now that the pain is gone, I can note that this occurrence– as unpleasant as it was – brought some wonderful new encounters along with it. Not only did I rediscover the wonders of western sedation (god bless America for the Valium they throw at you); but I got to go to China Town on a twice a week basis. I got to meet Dr. Alice.
While Alice stuck needles in my body, I would fall asleep to the soft vague tunes of 'Elton John's greatest hits' by a Chinese pianist and small little lamps warming my toes. After 35-55 minutes Alice comes in, takes her needles out, while I am trying to get myself together. Before she sends me home, I take a little milk and honey candy from a heart shaped glass bowl. The tiny, round, innocent treat injects just enough energy, for me to get back out to Canal Street, to a sea of clocks and belts and many, many rushing people.