NYC09: From the Flatiron to Chelsea

After visiting the Bronx Zoo, I was not ready to head back to the hotel. Not while there was still light to be exploited and districts yet to be explored. Taking the 456 train to 23rd street, I hopped off and found myself right outside the Flatiron building.

Without a doubt this is my favourite building in New York City. Sure the Empire State Building, and the Chrysler Building have a lot going for them, but neither has the eloquence or unassuming charm of the flatiron. The way the building splits traffic, as it climbs ever skyward is impressive enough on its own. Today, it offers an architectural style often overlooked, or simply passed by in favour of those that fit more peaceably into the square holes unspokenly requested.

At the base of the building a park opens up, where local groups can meet. As is often the case – I'm finding – in this city, a group of people practicing Karate were set up in the open area. Blindfolded, they were practicing maneuver, while being, seemingly at random, hit in the stomach by their master.

After I had taken in all I could of this spectacle, I began heading for 21st and 8th. And why here, you may ask? Because this intersection was home to Peter Parker when he moved out of his home in Queens.

The neighbourhood was just tall enough to imagine Spider-man swinging home to at the end of a long night. The area had just the right amount of charm to imagine the freelance photographer settling into. And what else was there, that I had not expected to find?


A grocery store. A real, fully stocked, grocery store. This was not the convenience locations, with eight dollar loafs of bread. No – this was a New York City grocery store – with six dollar loafs of bread! (Those numbers may be somewhat skewed, but not by much.) It's no wonder so many city dwellers eat out. It's almost the same expense to stay at home.

For me, I would not require a twenty dollar meal. Not when two dollars and fifty cents would provide me with a cream pie, and a bottle of cream soda. Ahh to be in a city, with a dwindling pocketbook but meals still seeming a necessity.