Jenna from the Block

Alright. So let's talk about some life choices I've been making lately. I need to make better ones.

Friday afternoon, I was checking out a couple of apartments way uptown, and since I was up by 110/116th, I figured I'd stop by Paul's since I hadn't seen him in a while. So I hopstopped it, of course; however, what I failed to do was actually read the directions. Ya see, I knew I had to take the 6 uptown. And I vaguely remember Paul mentioning that it wasn't very far from his place. Mind you, I've never taken this particular train. I've always taken the 2 or the 3 and gotten off of 135th. Well, I glance at my hopstop directions, and double check the stop, because at this point I do realize that the 6 is not the 2 or the 3; thus, it will be a little unfamiliar. 138th. Got it. Check. Paul lives on 139th, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong-o, buddy. This stop is on 138th and 3rd ave.. in the Bronx. Yeah. So I get off the train and go outside, hoping that somehow I will magically know where to go. Realizing that that wasn't the case, I have an Aha! moment, and remember that I e-mailed myself the directions and that I could look them up on my phone. Yeah, that would have worked out better if it weren't FREEZING outside. I want to say that it was maybe 10 degrees out. So I was trying to use my phone, but the touch screen was just not havin it. It uses heat sensors, of course, and heat was certainly not radiating from my fingers, which were starting to go numb. I couldn't even use my key pad because I couldn't tell how hard I needed to press the buttons. I begin to walk back towards the station (I did some wandering), and decide to head into the Shell gas station. It was lit, public, and warm. And I could really use some hot chocolate at this point. I finally began to warm back up, and I needed to come up with a game plan. I decided to googlemap myself and try to figure it out that way. That, or mapquest, or hopstop. Anything. Luckily. Paul called. He was home from work, and I should've been there by now. "Jenna. You took the 6?! That stop is in the Bronx. You have to cross a bridge." Great. Knowing that anymore wandering on my own, via bus or by foot, would just be a terrible idea, he starts trekking my way because let's face it, I'm no good when it comes to directions. (As Erica's dad would say, "It's not up to par with my other accomplishments.) I asked the pleasant cashier at the register to point me in the right direction of 138th and Grand Concourse, and made sure that this would lead me over a bridge and into Harlem (at this point, you could never be too sure). Now that I had an idea of where the hell I needed to go, I figured I could try to meet Paul halfway. It's a bridge. How could I miss it? (Oh! On a plus side, the cashier only made me pay $1 instead of $1.25 for my hot chocolate. Probably because he felt sorry for me.) In case you're thinking that I somehow managed to screw that up, I assure you that I didn't. I met Paul, and gave him the rest of my hot chocolate. Poor thing.

And so concluded my night's adventure in the Bronx.