#nycblackliststarter

Tommy found himself dissociating more and more often as he worked, merely going through the motions like muscle memory without committing any of his brain to the menial labor. He kept an airpod in one ear while he managed his job -- cleaning this, wiping that, taking out the trash, and so on and so forth. It was like the background of the bowling alley/arcade mashup had disappeared -- its patrons nothing more than buzzing insects far out of Tommy’s thoughts.

On his third round through one spot of the building, he saw a beer bottle that had been mostly empty and sitting -- neglected -- for at least an hour. The patron who had ordered it was still seated near enough to it that Tommy hadn’t bothered tossing it, but now he was irritated. He stopped, brows raised, and called their attention, “You gonna throw this away or do I have to wait for you to leave and pick it up for you?”

The Streets of New York

Was it a smart idea to be walking along the streets of New York City alone at night? Probably not but Jenny was asleep and Cassie just needed to do something. She wasn’t sure exactly what that thing was but it was New York City after all, you know the city that never slept? Something was bound to be open at this time right? She wasn’t paying attention to wear exactly she was walking, just wondering around aimlessly really with her hands shoved in her coat pockets and her cheeks tinted pink from the cold air kissing them. When she came across a figure stood at an intersection waiting for the light to change and allow for them to cross she probably should have left the silence between them but instead she decided to speak “Hey know anything to do around here at an hour like this?” She questions, not having seen the persons face yet. 

The pencil between her teeth shifted as she erased something in her journal. An idea had struck her in the middle of her walk through the park and she absolutely had to jot it down before she forgot. Ohh -- and she just got a new piece from the thrift shop down the street that would work wonderfully with the dress pattern she had in mind. 

Maisy replaced the pencil with her pink eraser, eyes burrowing in concentration. The woman didn’t bother looking were she was going as she drew and next thing she knew her journal was on the ground and she was steadying herself on the person in front of her.       “Oh my goodness, I am - I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

Location: NYC Bar

Connor sat at the bar, beer in hand as he talked freely to whoever happened to be around him. Shy had never been a word used to describe Connor in any way, shape, or form. Though he had certainly seen the bad side of people before, he was an eternal optimist and still considered everyone he met as a friend until they proved otherwise. He believed that people were inherently good, which made his dislike of his parents and their high society crowd all the worse. He believed that they chose to be that stuck up, callous, and rude. 

Tonight wasn’t about his parents however, tonight Connor had a new topic of conversation. “I mean, you know there’s almost a hundred and fifty subway stations in Manhattan, right? Only thirty-six of them are wheelchair accessible. Isn’t that crazy?” he asked before taking another sip of his beer, “I mean, honestly, stairs still aren’t the easiest for me, sometimes I just can’t do it. And if the leg’s acting up bad enough that I have to use my chair for a bit? It’s a no go. I mean, the busses are accessible, but it’s still such a pain.”

S T A R T E R

- streets of nyc

getting kicked out from a poker club wasn’t on flora’s radar that night. she wasn’t bad at the game at first but other players started noticing her c h e a t i n g and distracting other players. seeing the first person on the street after exiting the club she can’t help but make light of the embarrasing situation “now that’s how you win at poker!” while being escorted by bouncers

Callie had been doing a great deal of thinking, about her life, this past week and when she was not thinking she was working. There did not seem to be much time for her personal life, but she had to admit it was her fault. It became easy, after four years, to glide through her day as a nanny and handle her clients in the free time. However, she was starting to feel overwhelmed; she knew that a change in the normal day to day routine could be beneficial.

There is a studio not far from home. Callie passed by it earlier in the week and took note of a sign promoting beginner’s yoga. Being a nanny to three children has its stressful moments so she thought yoga may be a good way to relax. When she arrived, it was not long before she realized the mistake she’d made. Somehow, she missed that the sign stated hot yoga and she had not been prepared for the intensity.

Callie stepped out from the studio’s door, into the fresh air that was much cooler than the room she’d come from. As she turned to begin the walk home, Callie ran straight into a person moving in the opposite direction. She fell backwards unable to balance her wobbly legs. Looking up she blurted, “Oh dear, I am so sorry!”

Outside of Dotty’s Corner Café

Esmeray cursed lightly to herself as she circled her car, no doubt looking like a criminal trying to figure out the best tactic to break into the vehicle. Leave it to her to lock her keys inside of her vehicle. She had been in a rush, running into the café for a coffee and bagel, completely unaware of her mistake until she stood there, bag grasped between her teeth with a coffee in one hand as her free one frantically felt through her pockets in search of her keys, only to then spot them sat right on her front seat, doors locked. She had attempted to call her father seeing as he had her spare key but he hadn’t answered. She settled on leaving a message for him figuring he would get it at some point.

The Star-Catcher was a local favorite for good reason, and the blonde let a breathy sigh escape as she settled into her seat and perused the menu. Not that she really needed to look it over; she always went with the bacon cheeseburger. As she placed her order with the waitress and boldly added a glass of wine along with it, Cece looked around the crowded room. The place was buzzing, and somehow that thought made her feel less alone. And perhaps a little generous. “I’d like to pay for the table in the corner over there as well,” Cecelia insisted to the waitress quietly. It was too dark to make out who the person was, but it felt like the perfect time to pay it forward. While she still could.