When I woke up this morning, I realized that the only way to shake off the effects of the incredibly yumy concoction of prosecco/vodka/God-only-knows-what-else from last night's friend's birthday party was to go running. Pressed for time, running to work seemed like a good idea, so I grabbed my stuff, put on my running shoes and headed up to Manhattan bridge. As I was approaching the stairs, I saw a young guy running towards me. It struck me as odd that he would go running in jeans and a jacket but that was about all the attention I gave him.. at least until he caught up with me on the stairs and asked me something. Unable to hear him through the music coming from my iPhone, I asked him a polite "Excuse me?" before I noticed he was holding a knife and what he was asking - or demanding, really - was for me to give him my iPod. Oh, that's what this is, I finally realized. In my hungover state, I almost corrected him that it's an iPhone, not an iPod. Then I hesitated: am I seriously in any way capable to judge how dangerous this dude can potentially be? Looking at his knife - which was large but much less threatening than the Wusthof set I have at home - I decided to take my chances and keep running. I am nowhere near as fast a runner as I once was but I convinced myself that I could probably outrun this little dipshit. "Let me go!" I said, before pulling myself away from his grip - yes, during my little brainstorming session he grabbed me by my pants - my pants, of all things! Luckily for me, he started running away as I headed accross Manhattan bridge, completely weak in my knees, my heart pounding like crazy.
So yes, that's good morning, Brooklyn style.