Yesterday, I headed to Reading Terminal Market and bought delicious cheeses, baked goods, and a gift for someone. The ride was my Mylar balloons’ idea.
The discussion began with my forthcoming trip to Atlantic City, where I’ll indulge in geographical therapy to spur the writing muse. Since I’m taking a Greyhound bus, I decided to confirm the trip. It took me three tries to find the confirmation number.
That was when a balloon’s cheery voice popped up. “Are you having a problem?”
“No!” I snapped. “I just needed the confirmation number. I’m good to go.”
“Uh, huh.” The butterfly balloons bobbed. “When was the last time you rode a Greyhound bus?”
“I’ve taken them many times when my mom and I used to travel back in, um, 1975.”
“1975, huh?” The balloons congregated around me. “That’s over 40 years ago. Shouldn’t you read their FAQ? They may have changed their guidelines?”
“Right.” So I studied the FAQ and learned about the tagging and baggage restriction, something not mentioned in 1975. “Guess I’d better bird-dog the station.”
“Dat’s wight, wabbit.” The balloons patted me on the head. “While you’re at it, how about walking through the Reading Terminal Market and Di Bruno Brothers? You plan to do some running around at the shore. See how that would work with your neuropathy.”
“Aw, shucks, why’d you have to mention that?” I groaned, knowing better than to argue. “Why don’t I just take a day trip to Atlantic City?”
“That won’t be necessary, but when you do go, take a cab to the hotel instead of walking. Betcha there will be cabs lined up, offering rides.”
With the balloons’ suggestions duly noted, I headed downtown. The ride to the bus station went without a hitch. Because the humidity had made yesterday a low spoon day, I needed to sit between every store I visited and I was pretty sore by the time I finished. Nevertheless, I got gf treats at the Flying Monkey Bakery. At the Pennsylvania General Store, they’ve got holiday ornaments, Philadelphia souvenirs, and other goodies. Reading Terminal Market has great cheese shops, but because I’d gotten there early, they were closed. If I don’t get my cheese, I’m gonna be an unhappy camper, I thought, so I headed off to Di Bruno Brothers. There I got my cheeses and prosciutto. After that, I went home to rest.
I got three takeaways from this: first, you can find anything you want at the Reading Terminal Market and Di Bruno Brothers, and yes, most of the shops cater to food allergies. If you leave hungry, you’ve done something wrong.
Second, bird-dog a place you’d like to visit if you’re not familiar with the area. This can apply to your writing if you want to create a realistic setting. I may bird-dog some places while I’m at the shore for my work in progress.
Finally, if you have neuropathy or any kind of health issue, travel light and consider the benches your best friends. I’ve decided to forego my laptop and opted for a journal and pens I can stow in my suitcase. Geographical therapy aside, it will be interesting to see how writing by hand affects my creativity.
Stay tuned. 🙂