Things to do on a Saturday in Chelsea in the middle of a pandemic

 Bruce wanted to go see this exhibit at the Whitney: 

So we decided to go on Saturday afternoon. We went alone because nobody else wants to hear us cackle about extremely arcane healthcare policy goings-on that we think are hilarious. Or egregious. Either way there's a lot of acronyms and snorting. 

I met Bruce in the Paper Source on 14th because it was too cold to wait for him out by the subway. While in the store, I purchased a handy contraption to open up doors without touching them. It looks like this:

An amazing thing: https://amzn.to/38cJsPP

My God geniuses do exist in this world. With this beauty, you can grab a door handle, poke an elevator button, open a can AND sign your name on the credit card machine, ALL WITHOUT TOUCHING ANYTHING. I was completely in awe and opened up every single door for Bruce the entire afternoon. He appreciated my chivalry, but I mainly was looking to amortize my purchase.

We both really liked this photo:

by Anthony Barboza

It's a shot by Anthony Barboza in Pensacola Florida in 1966. We studied the three faces in the car, how they're all peering out, kind of puzzled, kind of alert.

Meanwhile, I had to check the weather for two reasons. 

One was because I had a nefarious plan to shanghai Bruce and convince him accompany me over to the Strand Bookstore. And who wants to walk in the rain? 

But two because I'd decided to wear my grandmother's fur "strolling coat" with the mink collar and I despair of it being rained on.

It was not raining AND Bruce agreed to go with me to the Strand, so I got to swan across town in my grandma's coat. I counted this as a Bright Spot, and you gotta count Bright Spots in the middle of a pandemic. To be frank, I was also enjoying kicking about in these black ankle boots which I barely have worn all year. If you rarely go out, shoes become incredibly optional. You start to look forward to wearing them.

There was a super huge reason for my excursion over to the Strand. I just listened to the Audible audio-book version of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. After the end of the story, the "this has been an Audible production" finale, it felt important that I get a print copy of the book. But it had to be a second-hand copy purchased in person. 

This is not a book that should be new. It should be dog-eared. Certainly not a Kindle book, shudder. And it felt wrong to order it online. There are unwritten rules things like this.

At the Strand, I ask a guy where I can find a copy of Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. He directs me to a book display nearby. But the books were new. Totally fresh smelling and with a brand new stylish green cover. All wrong, in other words.

I ask where the second hand copies are.

The guy says, "oh, we haven't bought used books for 9 months!" He says this with a certain vehemence that I did not appreciate. I'm sure I scowled back at him, I'm not known for my poker face.

We left immediately and I will go to Argosy or one of the other book stores and continue my important quest. 

PS- Oh shit, they have a copy at Argosy. A first edition. $600. I was kind of hoping to underline a couple things with a red pencil, so further search may be required....

A pristine Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance at Argosy Book Store