The sidewalk outside Life, our local Greek hoodlum nightclub, is littered with pamphlets and beer cans in brown bags. I’m walking east on Newtown, pushing forty pounds of laundry on a yenta cart. He’s walking west, pushing a handtruck with one box of groceries and two jugs of Poland Spring water. Neither of us are using both hands to push our light loads.
“Hi,” I smile.
“Good morning,” he says in a slight accent. I guess he’s either Senegalese, or Ivorian, from the accent and the bone structure and the smile. I remember a lot of smiles, always, in the Ivory Coast.
I think about this until I’ve dropped off my laundry, taken my chit. I’m walking west on Newtown, now thinking about the subway changes this weekend, and pushing my empty yenta cart. He’s there again, in front of Life, walking east and pushing the empty handtruck.
“Have a great day,” I grin. He smiles even wider.
“Take care, okay.”
People who say New Yorkers aren’t friendly don’t live here.
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well if you think he is from senegal or cote d’ivoire or even cameroun then you should have talked to him in french to make him feel more comfortable.
je sais que tu peux parler francais alors pourqoi pas??
i live in florida and i visited new york a month ago. i found most of the people there friendly. except for the cops…one morning, we were trying to find our way back to rockefeller center and a cop gave us the completely WRONG directions! we couldn’t believe it. but even the people on the subways were nice. i kept bumping into people who were on their way to work, and i would smile and say “sorry!” and they would smile back.
I love these little glimpses into Astorian life. [Also--I'm a smidge jealous of your yenta cart!]
Yenta cart?
of this
of
this
the music
the kisses
the passion
of all things left
of all things here unsaid
in moments of railways arrival
in memories of England and childhood singing
in the sea of France and green villas chatter
through night and nights of night
and all Belgium sleeping,
and all things left
and all things there unsaid
where this music was hidden
sweet sentences silences shorelines stream
as surges shimmering starlight swirls
swimming as ceaseless
rotations and worlds,
and all things left
and all things read
of touch
of taste
of subtle
of kiss
of subtle
of taste
of touch
of
this.
r.k.j.
oh new jorkers are awesome i hope to be one someday.
Ppl who say new yorkers are rude haven’t been!
I’m back in manhattan in october can’t wait woo hoo!!