a place I'm not allowed

Bored.  I consider my options for the day.

• I can finish Eyes On You by Kate White, an easy beach read.  But that’ll only take a half hour.

• I don’t want to spend money so shopping, though tempting, is out.

• I don’t feel like sitting in a movie theater.  I friend of mine recently said, “Going to the movies in the daytime is depressing.”  I think she’s right.  Unless it’s winter or pouring rain.

• It is too humid to exercise.

• I could walk over and see the Jeff Koons retrospective at The Whitney but I am not sure I want to see it enough to pay $20 and probably wait in line.

• A nice brunch out is expensive and fattening, as I know I wouldn’t want an egg white omelet and instead would gravitate to eggs benedict or some other equally unhealthy option. 

• My closets are pretty much cleaned out, so that’s not really worth doing.

• I could go to a free outdoor jazz concert at MOMA but I don’t like jazz.

But I do want to go out.  I throw on a pair of running shorts and a tee shirt.  I pull my hair into a ponytail.  Wear no makeup.  Grab my camera, and leave.

I head over to John Jay Park.  I’ll shoot some kid portraits.  I take a handful of my moo cards, as I always ask permission, and then will hand out my card if the parent/babysitter is interested in seeing the pictures I take.

I snap away.

I see a woman with some kids enter the park.  “Hi, mind if I take some pictures of your children?” I ask. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“No problem, that’s why I asked,” and I start to walk away. 

Her friend then comes barreling over to me and says, rather rudely, “I don’t want you taking any pictures.”  I tell her I only take pictures if the parents approve.   The two women walk over to some other area of the park.

A few minutes later, woman #1 comes up to me and asks, “What are you doing this for?” 

I tell her the truth.  “I was bored today so I thought I’d take some photos of kids.  I’m an amateur photographer.  And if they’re any good, I might post them on my blog. If you want, I’ll give you my card.”

She refuses it and walks away. 

Two minutes later her friend approaches me. “Do you know that adults who are not in the company of children are not allowed in this park?” 

“No I didn’t know,” I respond. 

She then goes on to explain the reason (as if I couldn’t guess).  “It’s to keep pedophiles out.”

“Are you accusing me of being a pedophile?” I ask.

“I didn’t say that,” she responds and walks away.

I am shaken from the encounter, and decide to check.  And sure enough, at the Park’s entrance, I see this:

I take only one more photo, with permission, and leave.

I guess I’ll be looking for another activity next time I’m bored.