New York, New York

"Anyu, Youth Group is having a  trip tomorrow. I just need you to sign this permission slip and I will be out of your way ALL DAY tomorrow. Isn't that great?"

I carefully placed the paper down in front of her and crossed my fingers. She glanced down and her face twisted into a horrified expression. "NEW YORK CITY? NOOOO! Somevon will steal you!"

"I'm 16, Anyu. And I'll be with a zillion other people, including Pastor Jim, who's a 6'3" former biker gang member that allegedly has weapons training." My mother looked even more horrified. "Well, uh, before he converted and became a super nice non-violent Youth Pastor. So. I think we're okay."

"No freakin' way, Mr. Jose. New York is dangerous."

I threw my hands in the air, stomped out of the room, and started dialing. "This is SO unfair!" I whined as soon as my best friend, Anita, answered the phone. "Mom won't let me go to New York with Youth Group because she's afraid gypsies are going to kidnap me or something."

"Well..." she started, "New York is kind of dangerous. I was reading this book about Mole People that live...
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