Hell’s Damn It Kitchen

At the end of this week, I will (hopefully) be giving ghost tours in Hell’s Kitchen!  Which meant that today, on the hottest day of the ever EVERS, I practiced walking the route IN THE HOT.  And came across this:

Fitting, no?  Although I’m pretty sure the creature terrorizing the neighborhood is ME.

Me, with my constant sneezing due to a staunch refusal to take allergy meds.  I’m not going to waste a Benadryl on some sniffles, that’s for emergencies, like soy milk in my Chai Latte!  But I get mad at myself when I sneeze, so all the way down the sidewalk it will go like this:

*achoo!*  “Not again!”  *achoo!*  “Curses!”  *ACHOO*  “DAMN IT!”

I also learned that, if you walk around with your nose buried in papers, pointing at buildings, and taking pictures, every cab driver is going to assume you want, but don’t know how to get, a taxi.  So they follow you down the street, slowly, leaning out the window, calling out “Tax-EEE?  Tax-EEE?  Tax-EEE, miss?”

*achoo!*  “NO – ”  *achoo!*  ” – THANK YOU…”  *ACHOO!*  “DAMN IT!”
It’s also imperative, when practicing, to mutter your stories under your breath as you walk past the various landmarks, which is also SUPER normal and not at all alarming.
*achoo!*  “…taste of his blade…”  *achoo!*  “…headless prostitutes…”  *ACHOO!* 
I can just see it – the next time I go to Hell’s Kitchen, there will be a totally different sign:

Let’s-a make a deal.
If you book a tour with me in advance,
I will take Claritin in advance.

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