I’ve had a pretty stressful day and needed to unwind on the walk home. As I scuttled from SoHo to the East Village, I spotted that the Washington Square Park fountain has been switched on for the summer.
Last year, I’d look on jealously as children waded through the water. Today I decided I should finally take a dip, and so I paddled my feet to cool off from the heat and my day. (It’s probably just a matter of hours before the dysentery kicks in.)
I have always loved Washington Square Park. It’s immaculate and there is great music and even better people-watching. There’s also the pigeon man (a less scary version than Home Alone 2), a man who somehow rolls out a grand piano every day and a metal band made up ten-year-olds. I could stay here for hours.
The only thing to ruin it was being approached by a far-too-cocky youth as I sat in the fountain, and him attempting to crack on. After we started chatting, I asked him what lines he uses on girls, and he said that the most successful is, ‘I have a knife, come with me to the alley’. At that point, I thought it was probably best to leave.