When the ride ended, we were like the massive herds of the Serengeti, emerging strong and single-minded. We flowed onto the streets, but were immediately met with opposition: the Ticker Tape parade for the Giants was today. Broadway was barricaded and there was no getting through. My best chance was to stick with the rest of the herd and somehow move through the impossible sea of Blue.
As the press of others unwillingly moved me, I saw an old woman shoving people to the ground in her attempts to get through. Others cursed. People grappled with the police, yelled from frustration, and all the while Giants fans were giggling, drinking, blowing horns and participating in every form of debauchery. Not for the first time, I had to wonder what it was all about. Why undertake this daily vexation?
In the office, there were no answers for me. But as I go through the same sequence back towards Jersey City–back through the seas of people, under the river and to my final exit–I start to get an inkling. Here, the sounds of chaos and madness fade. There is Donovan, chatting with neighborhood pet owners, as likely to talk about the newest restaurants as he is the best cat foods. Here is Kristen's store (always a story and some new treasure there; Kanibal never disappoints!) There is Maya and Paul's place, with their 10 month old son Leo, whom I adore. And here my favorite spot: where I live.
The lights are on, which must mean Gregg is already there. I smile as I spot Charlie in the window, probably playing with the catnip there. As soon as I open the door, I shed all the happenings of the Great Migration behind me.
I'm home.
About the author: Daniella Lekach is maker of things. She lives with Gregg and their two cats in Jersey City. Find out more here: lovedaniella.com.
