Terrified

Holy Moly, this morning I went to Queens for the first time. It's a shame that my first adventure had to be one of the most ghetto experiences of my life- I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at you the same, Queens.

I lost my drivers license a while ago and a very nice person returned it to the Queens Police Department for me. Why Queens? I'm not sure, but it was very nice. So I had to go fetch my little driver's license...because I'm an idiot and put things in my pockets instead of in my purse...in Queens. The walk from the subway was terrifying and dirty and terrifying some more. And this is all at 8:30am. I like to think of myself as a pretty un-scared new New Yorker but I think that's just because I hadn't walked to the police station in Queens.

So what I didn't really think about was that the Property Claims Department of the Queens Police Station means where people collect their belongings after they are released from jail. There was a large chain link and concrete wall that separated a large room. On one side of the wall was me and the nice lady behind the plexi-glass window, on the other side were the NEWLY RELEASED PRISONERS COLLECTING THEIR BELONGINGS. I saw an officer walk in with this huge bag of cigarettes, obviously confiscated contraband from the prison. Ya...

The women in front of me in line was trying to get the $200 out of her boyfriends "account" but she couldn't because he was in jail for felony drug trafficking- she was notttt happy and yelling at me about it. I got my ID and literally ran the 15 minutes back to the train. Peace out, Queens.