Daffodils were in bloom outside of 45 Gramercy Park today. Early spring flowers that grow from bulbs catch my eye more than those reared in greenhouses and are transplanted along city sidewalks. I flicked my cigarette upon the street as I headed into the plush condo to deliver checks to the staff that work inside. The daffodils lifted my soul. I know how cold the winter was in New York. I was outside delivering in it every day.
My lover works in the neighborhood. I imagined he must have walked by these same yellow flowers. I recall the day he came home and told me that he saw pregnant Chelsea Clinton walking along the park.
“I noticed this girl across the street. She had the most beautiful coat on. You could tell it was a well made coat, not to mention the shoes she had on– it made her look just like a doll baby. But I looked at the girl’s face and thought, oh, how plain and homely looking she was. It was then I noticed she was pregnant and I thought– wow, those are nice maternity clothes. I mumbled to myself ‘I guess there’s someone out there for everyone’. It was the fact that she was pregnant that made me realize it was Chelsea Clinton. At that moment she slipped. I watched her. It freaked me the fuck out. It was Chelsea Clinton and she almost busted her ass.”
As I looked at those daffodils and my dusty, worn-out Sketcher’s, I wondered about nature and why bulbs grown in the hard cold winter are so much prettier than those reared in hot houses.