Fiction author Robin Brande talks about writing, reading, and other vital matters

Okay, it’s been a year, I don’t think the police are looking for us anymore. The story can be told.

First of all, I’m back in NYC and I love it. Went to the Empire State Building tonight to see the city lights from above. The Chrysler Building is by far my favorite–what style. Makes you appreciate architects and designers all over again.

Want to know what makes a person feel rich? Deciding to spend the extra $24 to get an Express Ticket. It meant zipping to the front of every single line, both going up and coming down, so we could get right to the meat of the experience. Not that I don’t enjoy spending hours in line with 50,000 of my favorite new friends, but sometimes you just want to be alone. Ish. You’re never actually alone in New York.

And by the way, spending that extra $24 was no easy impulse for someone as frugal/psycho-cheap as I am. Earlier today I saved a whole $10 by foregoing a taxi from the airport and taking a shuttle filled with strangers instead. The van was made to seat 8 comfortably. We were a group of 11. SO worth the money. And the poor little 4-month-old baby in front of me cried the whole time because she was already way past her feeding, and the van kept making more stops. Between the wailing and the squishing, by the time we finally got into Manhatten we were all so happy together we were singing camp songs. I hated to get out. I’m sure we’ll keep in touch.

Anyway, back to the story of my brief association with crime.

I usually come to New York with my sister-in-law, Sue. Sue is, in most ways, just like me: very organized, very law-abiding and safety-conscious. It’s actually a little eerie how my husband married a woman just like his sister, and I married a man just like my brother. It reminds me of that excellent song, “I’m My Own Grandpa,” which I always sing that whenever I think of Bill Wyman of The Rolling Stones, who ended up marrying his ex-wife’s daughter, or something like that.

Anyway.

(I’m in the City That Never Sleeps! Can you tell? Am I digressing too much? Do you think it’s the coffee?)

So Sue and I are just walking along Canal Street last summer, minding our own business, purchasing warm pashmina scarves in 130-degree heat, when suddenly Sue overhears these women talking about how they just met a guy who’s going to take them to a place where they can get knock-off Coach bags.

Sue says to me, “Let’s follow them!”

Which was about as shocking as if she’d told me, “Let’s go get stoned in the park!” It’s just not what I’m expecting from my cautious, sensible sister-in-law.

So there we were, two middle-class-looking women following four upper-class-looking women who were following a pretty sketchy-looking dude down not just one block or two, but fully three blocks through a mysterious neighborhood.

The guy leads us into this office building, where he gives the security guard a little nod.

This whole time Sue is all, “Isn’t this exciting!” and I’m all, “Who ARE you?”

We walk down a hall, and there’s an office with a sign on the door saying “A-1 Driving School.” The windows are blocked out with butcher paper. We go in.

It’s this tiny, one-room space, no bigger than a bedroom. Our guide quickly shuts the door behind us, and I think, “This is it. We’re being kidnapped for a slavery ring.”

But Sue and the other women don’t seem concerned at all. They’re looking at the scarves and purses and knock-off Oakley sunglasses, asking about the prices, haggling.

While I stand near the door, arms crossed over my chest, all stern and serious like I’m Sue’s bodyguard. “You go ahead and shop, miss. I got it covered.”

Eventually the other women decide there’s nothing for them there, and they leave. So it’s now just Sue and me with these two shady characters. Which does NOT feel comfortable.

I’m mumbling to Sue, “Let’s go. Time to go.” Finally she gets the vibe, and so we bid our farewells and escape.

“Wasn’t that great?” Sue says once we were safe again on the street.

“No! That was scary!”

“Ah, come on!” Then Sue tells me a friend of hers had been sampling some counterfeiter’s wares the year before, and the police had come in on a raid while the friend was still standing there, holding some fake designer purse. The officers arrested the guy and scooped up all his merchandise, but one of the nice policemen told Sue’s friend, “Eh, go ahead and keep the purse.” For free! So I think Sue (queen of discount shopping) was hoping for a little magic like that.

I told that story to my friend Carolyn, who used to live in New York, and she said the police often arrest the customers, too.

Can you imagine? Me, little goody-two-shoes, in the hoosegow because my equally prissy sister-in-law decides to play Girls Gone Wild?

I hope there isn’t some nice NYPD officer out there reading this who realizes I’ve just busted wide open one of his cold cases. I swear, officer, we were innocent. We didn’t know that nice man was a criminal. Sue just wanted to see some pretty purses. And I was interested in driving lessons.

Don’t you just love the whole “A-1 Driving School” front? Classic! And I never would have guessed what it really was if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

It’s experiences like that that tell me I really know nothing of what goes on in this world. I’m so gullible. It’s one of the reasons I was such a bad criminal defense attorney–I always believed my clients. The judges and the prosecutors would just shake their heads at me, I was such a pup. Can I help it that I want to believe the best about people?

Whoops, it’s after midnight here, so it’s time to pack it in. More new discoveries to make about this city and humanity tomorrow.

And by the way, my fashion consultants were right: EVERYONE here wears pointy shoes–even the garbage men. But I’m sorry, they still remind me of Witchy-Poo. Can’t see myself in anything but Merrell’s.

More to come . . .

Technorati Tags: New York, New York City

Posted on Saturday, June 10th, 2006 at 9:06 pm under Life . Subscribe to responses: RSS 2.0 Comment Feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.