A Horse Is A Horse

It was such a beautiful day today, I thought I would walk from Grand Central to my office. And truthfully, my pants are getting too tight so I figured the exercise wouldn’t hurt.  I walked along Fifth Avenue and turned up Central Park South.  I wanted to chat with the Famous Central Park Horses and see how they were handling all the craziness surrounding their right to work.

As I walked, I saw a parade of carriages heading down CPS in the opposite direction, getting ready to make the left turn to line them up along the edge of the Park.  I didn’t want to yell across the street, so I kept walking.  I came upon a few who were already in position, but they were arguing with the pigeons over breakfast and I didn’t want to interrupt their meal.  Finally, around Sixth Avenue, I came upon a handsome fellow, pawing at the ground and, pardon the expression, chomping at the bit to get his day started.

“Good Morning. Beautiful day.”

“How YOU doin’?”

“I’m fine, thank you.  I was wondering if you would mind if I asked you about the push to get you out of the Park, to shut down the Carriage Horses.  Does it concern you?”

“Nah, I ain’t worried about them mooks.  I’m a New York horse.  Nothin’ bothers me.  Except maybe construction cranes.  They make me a little skittish, you know?  Besides, I’m in the union, The Teamsters.  You remember Jimmy Hoffa don’t ya?”

“So you don’t think they’ll replace you with antique cars?’

“Are you kiddin’ me.  I’m a freakin’ institution, for cryin’ out loud.  Like the tree at Rockefeller Center.  All the tourists love me.  And where’s the romance in ridin’ in a Model T.  You gonna propose in a crummy clown car?”

“But don’t you get tired of this?  Don’t you want to run free in green pastures?”

“What, and give up Show Business?  You nuts or somethin’?  I love the way the kids giggle and squeal when they touch my nose. I always give a little blow –  bbbrrrrh.  Makes ’em laugh.  And when the people are in my carriage, and we’re clipclopin’ through the Park, I show them what it was like to live here a hundred years ago.  It makes me feel special.  I got plenty a time to eat grass when my legs give out.  Well, look – it’s been nice talkin’ to ya but I got to get to work.  I gotta make a living ya know.”

“Thanks.  I’ve got to get going too.  I hope it all works out for you.  I’d miss you if you were gone.”

“Lady, you have no idea.”

How YOU doin'?

How YOU doin’?

This entry was posted in Central Park, New York City and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to A Horse Is A Horse

  1. this was so much fun to read! very creative, great post!

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