The Quest for Stuffing

I've been knitting away at teddy bears and bunnies, but am now at a point where I need some stuffing. That shouldn't be hard to find in this humungous city. All I need is a sewing store.

So off I went, yesterday, down to Chelsea, where I'd found a number of sewing stores listed online. I got off at 28th St, and intended to walk along each street between 6th and 7th Aves (or further afield if there looked to be something promising). It turns out that 28th St has many many flower/plant shops! We'd walked by before, but at night, and so it was like being there for the first time. The sidewalk was crowded with pots of cyclamens and orange trees. Occassionally more exotic plants were displayed. Delivery trucks blocked the road, so traffic was minimal too. Quite pleasant!

Unfortunately, pleasantness seemed to stop there. Every block seemed to have a moment of gag-inducing stench (urine, dog poop, unwashed person, icky sewer...) Besides dodging dog poop, puddles of mysterious and murky liquid had to bve missed. Why are there so many mysterious puddles in this city?

The only sewing stores I found were tiny places with floor-to-ceiling shelves of bolts of fabric. Cool, but not what I was looking for. The other type of sewing store sold sewing machines. Also not what I needed! On the other hand, I rediscovered the cleaner, less smelly of the Goodwill stores. It was one at which I'd found a fabulous pair of pink Rockport boots which had never been worn! This time I had less luck.

Today, I headed further south on the island, down into the unnumbered streets! I'd read about this one store, called P&S. It's really a sewing store, but I'd found it on a knitter's website, as this store also sells some cheap wools. What luck! It had a lot of variety of cheap wool, tons of funky buttons and zippers and tassels and trims and so much fabric! Even better, people who worked there were courteous and helpful! I felt like I walked through some twilight zone into non-New-York-land, where people are friendly and stores are useful and fun! Yippee!

I found stuffing, which was in the basement. I think there was even a subbasement, but I didn't venture that far.

P&S is on the outskirts of Chinatown, so I figured, since I was so close, I might as well do a bit of shopping in Chinatown as well. It would be nice to have some green veggies, we needed a few more bowls, and I could use a snack. Chinatown here is just like Chinatown every where else I've been, so I don't understand why there are so many tourists! In addition to the usual traffic of grandmothers getting their daily goods, children running around crazily, and mafia-like young men, the streets were jammed with tourists stopping to take photos. The sidewalks were, of course, spilling over with wares: an ocean of smelly fish embedded in ice, dried unidentified things reeking, fresh fruit and vegetable stands and actually Made in China kitcschy crap. And why is it that so many people in Chinatown need to hork and spit?! What do they eat/breath/drink that causes so much phlegm? And why do they feel the need to share with everyone within literal spitting distance? Ugh!

So in addition to avoiding stepping in mysterious puddles, I had to avoid flying spit, smelly dried fish stands and getting hit by veering traffic! Why did I think this was a good idea? By the time I had gotten greens and bowls in which to eat them, I had to pee. Shouldn't be hard. I'd seen a Starbucks and a McDonald's right by the subway station. Starbucks was so packed with people, I just didn't have the energy to push my way into the back in search of a possible bathroom. And I got kicked out of McD's for not being a customer and trying to go upstairs to use their bathroom! Can you believe that labour is so cheap it's worth their while to pay someone to stand by the stairs and stop people who aren't 'customers' from ascending? I suppose I could have argued my way in ("I'm meeting a friend upstairs." "I ate downstairs and need to pee now." etc.), but it just seemed easier to get on the subway and use the one at home. At least I know my bathroom is clean, has toilet paper, and doesn't have mysterious puddles on the floor.