Williamsburg Photo du Jour: Monday Afternoon On Bedford Avenue

As the delay in today’s postage probably indicates, I spent this downright gorgeous day outdoors. Days such as this are— in my humble opinion— best spent pounding the pavement of north Brooklyn, not in front of a computer monitor.

Or, as I learned from Kenneth, donning your best dress, heading to the intersection of North 7 Street and Bedford Avenue to knock back 40s and hand out roses to female passerby. I sat down with Kenneth for a few minutes to hear his story. Here it is.

Kenneth resides in Manhattan but after spending a week in rehab decided to come back to the “old hood” to clear his head and drink beer. I’m not too certain if Williamsburg is the ideal location to do such a thing, but who am I to argue? Kenneth was clearly happy, if a bit soused. He said:

Someone my age, FIVE TWO, should probably be doing something better with his time…

I vehemently disagreed.

After all that awful weather we had the sun is out! Why not spread a little sunshine of your own? I’m out taking a walk and you’re hanging out here handing out roses. Who am I to judge?

I like sitting here. They’ll probably make me move soon. I better buy another beer.

He replied and then proceeded to offer a solitary red rose to on old Polish lady passing by:

Will you marry me?

He exclaimed, much to her disgust. (Yeah, I know it’s wrong but I had to chuckle.) Upon noticing this act earned him a glare from an employee of the N7 Market, Kenneth added:

I LOVE Hispanic men!

This outburst had the desired effect: the employee in question quickly went back into his place of employment. It was then that Kenneth offered me a rose. I declined at first. But he insisted:

I have to buy more anyway.

So I took it, thanked him and went on my way. Thank you, Kenneth. Making your acquaintance made my day!

Your lovely gift now graces my desk. It numbers among my most cherished possessions. I made sure to put it next to Mister Heather’s blood pressure medication so he will notice.

(Hey, I might be married but it’s nice to be reminded I still have “prospects”!)

Miss Heather

UPDATE 6:54, p.m.: as I calculated the Mister arrived home and noticed my gift!

The Mister: Where did the rose come from?
Me: A 52 year old man in a dress on Bedford Avenue gave it to me.
T.M.: That’s good. (Then he wandered off to the kitchen to make a cocktail.)