Confessions logo

New Yankee Stadium

A trip.

By Georgia ToewsPublished 2 years ago 10 min read
Like

The New Yankee Stadium Georgia Toews

So there we were, the widow the lesbian and me. Me being the 17 year old kid who forced this road trip upon the widow and the lesbian, just to see the Yankee stadium before they destroyed it. ‘Course I planned on seeing it a couple years ago, just never really worked out to come down to New York till now. The game was only tomorrow though in the evening so we had some time to kill during the day. I’m not stupid, I know that they’re people, but I had no idea how I was supposed to kill 8 hours of daylight with these two women. The widow was my grandma, she can’t really walk too much, so the whole idea of exploring downtown had gone to shit. The lesbian, Martha, that used to be my grandmas neighbour, till grandma became a widow, then she moved closer to us. I never really even talked to her that much, the lesbian, not on account of her liking women and all that, I didn’t really care, she can do what she wants. I just always feel bad around her because one time she took care of a little girl, we would play together the girl and I, then the little girl had to leave, go back to her real mom my grandma said. At the time I didn’t know what that meant so I asked Martha if she was just babysitting and that I wanted the girl to come back.

“Me too.” She said. I didn’t mean to hurt her as much as she looked hurt. But I did, ever since then I feel like I owe it to her to be nice. We decided on going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Met. Not like the Mets, like Picasso and all that. After a short cab ride and long line of try hard art hipsters we got in. My grandma had to sit for a bit so we split up, looking at art or columns, trying to see things I guess. I went to the Egyptian side first, but I got tired quickly cause I kept trying to see something, to picture Egypt or Pharaohs or shit like that. I couldn’t though, I saw some old relics that looked like charms my sister would put on a necklace and wear around like a strand of pearls. It’s strange what the kid values. I saw her hold on to a loonie once for a day just cause it was shiny and she pretended it was worth 100 dollars and wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. I kinda wished I could do that now, put value in something like that, believe in it so much that I could convince everyone else that it was priceless. I just didn’t bother I guess, I’d like to think I’m too mature for that. This place was starting to get on my nerves, everyone kept moving slowly around each piece of “art,” like they were looking for something. That’s the problem with this city, everyone’s always looking for something or someone, no ones just standing, thinking, everyone just moves individually along the streets, but there always moving. Maybe I was jealous, I wanted to go somewhere but I had nowhere to be. I’d leave this museum not feeling a fucking thing, go back to the hotel, watch a baseball game and go back home. I wouldn’t leave a goddamn mark on this city and no one here could care less if I had ran through the streets the screaming or just passed them by quietly. Cause no ones standing still to notice anyone. Made me sick how average this overhyped city was. I’d rather travel somewhere where at least they’d notice I’d driven through. Maybe I should subway up to Coney Island. Just stand there for a bit, see if anyone says anything. But I’d probably get shot. I still listen to rap sometimes, its like some of those guys anger energizes you cause at least its some palpable type of emotion. I also like to send pictures of C-Murder to my dad as a dis. I don’t think I could do that up in Coney Island though. I decided I’d stood in this Egyptian fraud for too long so I kept walking, I wanted to find a place to sit down. There were two smaller rooms off to the left of this little room of green charms, so I walked over to look around. There was a glass door that blocked off the second room, but I figured if it was a glass door it was meant for people to look in, and if people could look in it’d be pretty mean to not let em go in, be a tease of a door, so I pushed it open, see things closer. There was more of those stupid charms but these ones weren’t behind a glass case. They were under a bunch of cheap looking plastic, just lying there. I felt like I was back in 7-11 staring at sour candies below the flimsy plastic windows. I could just take one. Just one, and who’d know, who’d care? They got like hundreds of these things in this place, not like they need more green charms to emphasize how evolved those Egyptian guys were. I felt sick and excited and my heart started going real fast. I could just take just one, they’d figure it out later and maybe they’d think of me. The guard would say,

“Oh yeah, the ginger kid, he must of took it.” They’d look up on their camera and maybe see my face, but I’d be back in Winnipeg already, and no one would know except these couple of guards, who’d be pissed but probably impressed that some kid just took a part of Egypt. So I took one. A small one maybe the size of a peanut, I punched it into my pocket, looked around a little bit more just to look casual then walked out. My heart was still doing it’s marathon lap as I got back to the lobby. I calmed down a little bit once we got back into the cab, then back to the hotel. We had some dinner then we all went up to go to bed. The city was still all lit up and pounding below us and I kept thumbing this little charm the whole night. Martha started watching the news and my Grandma fell asleep. Then there it was, my fucking life over. Below in tiny print under Lisa Lazaros big head, “Small artifact from M Era of Metropolitan Museum Stolen.” Shit. How the fuck did they even notice!? I thumbed the charm over and over and started to sweat again. I just stayed still for the next hour, Martha fell asleep so I finally stood up. I started pacing around the room making sure I knew all the exits, all the hiding spots, making sure I bolted the door shut. I had to get rid of this thing, except what if they came for it and just gave it to them nicely? Like it was their fault for leaving something so worthless looking out for the public. No I had to ditch this thing, I thought I should go downstairs, quickly down to the street, give it to some homeless guy, ‘'''cept then he’d be in trouble, more so then he already is. I was running out of possible hiding places so I just left the room, just walked out right into the elevator down into the lobby and out the door. They’re coming for me I’m sure of it. I walked around for a bit, I couldn’t decide how I felt. I finally felt like I was doing something like I had somewhere to go, I had something to do I belonged to some piece of this city, then the other part of me just wanted to run up back to the hotel room, just make it end. I didn’t want my grandma to worry or Martha to get sad again if they woke up and I wasn’t there. Worse if I was in jail. No I had keep walking so I walked towards Times Square, hope I’d get lost in the lights and be another face, fucking irony. It started to rain and everyone started to go back to their hotels, get in cabs. Shit, I grabbed some lone umbrella off the street. If anyone tells me that this is there umbrella I’m gonna kick their ass I thought. No, first I’m gonna tell them to get the fuck outta here, and if they don’t then I’m gonna kick there ass. My fucking umbrella, my charm. I was losing my mind over a green peanut of a thing in my khakis. I kept walking around looking for somewhere maybe I could ditch this thing, rain coming in all around me cause all umbrellas are goo for is nothing. I saw an Applebees up the street so I ran in there. Ditched the umbrella too, someone can have it back. I went into the Applebees, I felt like I was crazy and at the same time I’d never done anything quite so cool. And it’s hard to be cool at Applebees, so that was a big thing for me at the time. Just as I was feeling real cool some teenage douche bags must of told a waiter it was my birthday, ‘cause all of a sudden I was surrounded by these cheery looking washed up AA fuckers singing, “Ba ba ba SOMEBODY TOLD ME TODAY WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY BA BA BA!” Jesus Christ, I was sweating balls I didn’t need this. That’s it I thought, I’m gonna leave this charm in Applebees let those teens take the rap maybe. Then again no, even if they did get caught I shouldn’t give them something like this. Maybe it did look like a stupid charm but it was my charm now and I was starting to think maybe it belonged to some other old Egyptian fuck up that just liked the way it felt between his fingers. Maybe he hated feeling like he wasn’t making a mark anywhere but still never got the drive to do anything but grab this stupid charm off some Pharaohs shelf and hope that maybe someone would remember him for it. I sound like I’m talking about death now but I’m not. I was just shit scared, foolish scared when you don’t know how to be logical you just think about other things until your staring at a 20 dollars Applebees check ‘cause you realize those fucking teenagers left your their tab. Well what the shit do I do now? So I just ran bolted out of their like lightening all the way to the hotel and back up into my room where Martha and my Grandma were still sleeping. It was the furthest I think I’d ever gone into my head with worry and self doubt. I crawled into the cot by my grandma. She couldn’t of heard me but I guess she felt me and sat up and patted my shoulder. She sighed like she had expected me to come home just now and went back to bed. She didn’t expect me to pat her back or say goodnight, she was cool like that, I think the world needs more mothers and grandmothers like that. Who can just make you feel like even if you stole from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and, (though non intentionally) Applebees, maybe your O.K. I wasn’t some rebel or new wave thinking angsty teen. I was just bored and fed up, so I finally fell asleep congratulating myself on accepting my own boredom and finding it hilarious that at such a young age I could revel in my mediocracy. I guess for now. I took the charm for a bit longer the next day then right before the game started I pitched it onto the field. Figured if they were knocking down this place anyway, it would be like a circle of life thing, it’d get buried and maybe found some many years later by another bored sweaty ginger kid. Least I’d made some kinda mark on this city, seemed good enough for now.

Teenage years
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.