Dear Valentina [The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel]

☆ Chapter Twenty-Nine: A World of Pure Imagination

SONG CHOICE:
Pure Imagination by Gene Wilder
 (from Mel Stuart's 1971 classic
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.      A WORLD OF PURE IMAGINATION

☆

      "So, this guy really enjoys his privacy, eh?"

      From the front seats of the cherry red Plymouth Belvedere, Benjamin and Valerie stared uneasily at the black, metal gates twenty feet in front of them. The emboldened words of the sign shouted loudly: 'PRIVATE PROPERTY! DO NOT CURB YOUR DOGS IN THE MEWS'. Beyond the elusive barrier, a gaggle of older teenagers sat outside at makeshift tables, their conversation silenced and eyes beady as they stared back at the pair. If looks alone could kill, they'd be dead. It was evident, just through vague glares, that even outside of the gated community, they were not welcomed.

      "Ooo-kay, this is officially deranged." Benjamin chirped awkwardly, reaching for the gear shift. He tossed his head over his shoulder, about to reverse. "Maybe we should just call it a day."

      The blonde's hand clasped onto his own, stopping him. Ignoring the running engine, she unbuckled her belt and stepped out of the car. "Don't be a pussy, doc. They're just teenagers ― if our generation can live through the war, then we can deal with them."

      Benjamin watched her leave with bewilderment, but after a stunted moment, he groaned softly, turned the ignition off, and followed. 

      The Washington Mews was a secluded neighborhood that Valerie was completely oblivious to. North of Washington Square Park, between Fifth Avenue and University Place, rows of wide, two-story townhouses (originally conceived as horse stables in the 19th century) occupied this private street. Now serving as houses or offices, the buildings were completely unassuming. Blush tinged bricks and neutral colored stucco built the establishments, complimented by dim windows, flower beds, and arched barn doors.