I was walking down bustling 9th Avenue, restaurants on both sides of the street. There were two women amongst so many others walking ahead of me. Both with shoulder length blonde hair. One had a very feminine backless dress on, the other one in a tank top and jeans. Tall, nice legs, shapely and probably pretty (I never did get to see their faces). The one in the jeans had her arm around the other while the one in the dress had her hand in the other one’s back pocket. Love was in the air and nothing and nobody mattered.
You don't get judged in New York City.
Again walking down the same street when the Heaven’s opened up without a warning. I spotted a little convenient store and jogged my way into it, remembering that I had to pick up sugar and biscuits to have with my morning tea. Once I was done with my purchase, I continued to wait inside, watching the rain come down hard. A woman, probably in her late 30’s walked in, bought a banana and asked for the biggest plastic bag that they had. Very efficiently she made three holes in the bag, one for her head, two for her arms and slipped it on like a blouse. Peeled the banana, walked out of the store, opened her umbrella and continued on her way.
Figure out a way to keep moving in New York City.
I’ve sublet an apartment close to Times Square, which can be annoying because of all the tourists but convenient because most places are either walking distance or a short cab ride away and every subway line has a stop here. I anticipated some minor issues in the apartment a couple of days into it and decided that maybe I should look for other options, just in case. So I began responding to advertisements on Craigslist and made appointments to see three places, all close to my old neighborhood. After I got done with viewing two of them I realized that I didn’t have the apartment number of the third one. So I called the person that I had made the appointment with and after he gave me the information he said, “Oh by the way, I guess I should have mentioned this sooner but I’m a nudist.”
He paused for a moment and continued saying that he wouldn’t be wearing clothes when he was in the apartment. I was at a loss for words and didn’t know how to react. I was still processing what he had just said, suddenly picturing my flat-mate walking around naked in the apartment. Obviously this wasn’t going to work out and as casually as I could, I told him that I wouldn’t be comfortable with the situation and there was no sense in my seeing the room. I had to know though, so I asked him if he would have answered the door in the buff if I had showed up. “Oh probably not,” he said. Probably? That was a close shave!
Bare it all in New York City.
It was a beautiful evening and I decided that I wouldn’t take the subway back to the apartment. Even though it was a long hike back, walking is one of the things I enjoy the most in New York. Besides, I wanted to visit my old neighborhood and walk through Central Park. About 20 minutes later, I felt a few drops of rain. The clouds didn’t look threatening so even though I didn’t have my umbrella, I wasn’t really concerned. As it started coming down a little harder I decided to stop and wait under the canopy of a restaurant on the corner of 73rd Street and Columbus Avenue. The sky got darker and the rain was now belting down. I began moving more and more towards the inside of the restaurant. It was getting windy and the canopy wasn’t helping a lot when two African American ladies with umbrellas decided to take shelter and share my space. Finally because of the winds we moved inside and began making small conversation. As the rain became manageable the ladies decided to head out. I came out of the restaurant with them but the rain was still more than a drizzle and it didn’t make sense for me to continue walking without an umbrella. One of them looked back and noticing that I was still stuck under the canopy said, “honey don’t you have an umbrella?” Nodding my head I said no. She came back and insisted that I take hers. “My sister and I will share one sweetie,” she said. They were both large women and one umbrella wasn’t going to do it for them. But she wouldn’t listen and I left the restaurant with an umbrella over my head and a song on my lips!
People are nice in New York City.
Needless to say, the city continues to fascinate me. Every time I think that nothing can surprise me, something does. From the lesbian couple who aren’t shy to display their affection, the woman who gets the largest plastic bag for a single banana in a grocery store, the nudist looking for a roommate or the friendly New Yorker. It’s just another day in my life here.
Tso Moriri, Ladakh
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
My New York Stories - Part 2 of many
I’ve written quite a bit about my stay in New York, the reasons I love it etc. It’s been almost 9 months since I returned from my 15 month stint in the city and as I get ready to go back next week, there are so many memories and expectations I am taking with me. Hopefully not leading to disappointment. If you haven’t read Part 1 of My New York Stories, this isn’t really a sequel ….
‘Twas the day before Thanksgiving. It had been less than two months since I had moved into my apartment on 75th Street by Central Park West. Although I knew that the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade was a really big deal, I had never been interested enough for even a television viewing during the years that I had lived in Chicago.
My friend Saloni was visiting me in New York for the week and it was past 10 pm. We had just gone through most of a bottle of wine and even though we had had an exhausting day, we were starting to feel like we needed to do something. Saloni suggested that we go out and continue exploring the city. To me ‘going out’ was always a good idea although I did warn her that the city would probably be dead since most people would have left to be with their families to celebrate the holiday.
As we came out of the brownstone apartment building we saw a sight that we were completely unprepared for. There were people everywhere. A sea of people. Swarms of them. Thousands and thousands of humans. Saloni and I looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. We laughed until there were tears rolling down our eyes. I suspect it was mostly the effect of the liquor that made us laugh at a sight that was so unexpected. I had no clue why there were so many people in my neighborhood and I absolutely had to find out. As we continued to stare at the magnitude of people and realized that there was a line of sorts, there was also no possibility of us getting through the bodies to see what was at the end of it.
A few minutes later, upon questioning, an employee of the NYPD informed me that the floaters and balloons were being inflated for the parade the next morning on 76th Street. And that the parade would be starting just a block away from where I lived. These crazy people around me were here to get a preview of Big Bird, Herbie and Dora. All tourists of course, people I would have nothing to do with. So I grabbed Saloni’s arm and walked towards the opposite direction. I was a New Yorker. I had my pride and I wasn’t about to indulge in any kind of tourist activity! Besides, we were going to be seeing the parade the next morning anyway.
We eventually parked ourselves on a bench outside the Haagen Dazs parlor on Columbus Avenue and began ‘people watching’. Which I may add is one of the most entertaining and fascinating time killing activities in New York City. We decided to play a game where we would segregate the locals from the tourists. We had no way of confirming if we were right or wrong but to us it seemed pretty clear cut. The tourists were dressed in bright colors, clunky gym shoes, wearing coats that were either several seasons out of style or completely not cool. Their children were dressed in pinks and baby blues. On the other hand, the local kids dressed like their parents, in stylish grown-up overcoats, boots and most importantly wearing an urban attitude. No holding their parents hands, no whining for ice cream. Just minding their own business and checking out the sights.
Although the night that I’ve just described may not seem extraordinary, the fact is that it was no ordinary night for me. Just as each day that I spent in the city, I discovered that it had at least one more interesting and unexpected characteristic. All I had to do was to keep my senses focused. And recognize these traits.
There is always a story to tell, a talent to watch, some people to meet or just the city to view. The multitude of races that live in near-perfect harmony. All the things that give New York City the character that it has are endless. It’s up to each one of us to recognize and indulge in them. Maybe my eyes saw things that weren’t really exceptional to a pair in someone else’s head. Maybe my heart made the ordinary seem extraordinary. Whatever the case may be, next week as I go back to the city that I love so dearly, I feel that I will become one with it. I may just be one in a few million that I share the space with. But my experiences will be distinctive and the time I spend with New York will be ‘specially’ mine.
‘Twas the day before Thanksgiving. It had been less than two months since I had moved into my apartment on 75th Street by Central Park West. Although I knew that the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade was a really big deal, I had never been interested enough for even a television viewing during the years that I had lived in Chicago.
My friend Saloni was visiting me in New York for the week and it was past 10 pm. We had just gone through most of a bottle of wine and even though we had had an exhausting day, we were starting to feel like we needed to do something. Saloni suggested that we go out and continue exploring the city. To me ‘going out’ was always a good idea although I did warn her that the city would probably be dead since most people would have left to be with their families to celebrate the holiday.
As we came out of the brownstone apartment building we saw a sight that we were completely unprepared for. There were people everywhere. A sea of people. Swarms of them. Thousands and thousands of humans. Saloni and I looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. We laughed until there were tears rolling down our eyes. I suspect it was mostly the effect of the liquor that made us laugh at a sight that was so unexpected. I had no clue why there were so many people in my neighborhood and I absolutely had to find out. As we continued to stare at the magnitude of people and realized that there was a line of sorts, there was also no possibility of us getting through the bodies to see what was at the end of it.
A few minutes later, upon questioning, an employee of the NYPD informed me that the floaters and balloons were being inflated for the parade the next morning on 76th Street. And that the parade would be starting just a block away from where I lived. These crazy people around me were here to get a preview of Big Bird, Herbie and Dora. All tourists of course, people I would have nothing to do with. So I grabbed Saloni’s arm and walked towards the opposite direction. I was a New Yorker. I had my pride and I wasn’t about to indulge in any kind of tourist activity! Besides, we were going to be seeing the parade the next morning anyway.
We eventually parked ourselves on a bench outside the Haagen Dazs parlor on Columbus Avenue and began ‘people watching’. Which I may add is one of the most entertaining and fascinating time killing activities in New York City. We decided to play a game where we would segregate the locals from the tourists. We had no way of confirming if we were right or wrong but to us it seemed pretty clear cut. The tourists were dressed in bright colors, clunky gym shoes, wearing coats that were either several seasons out of style or completely not cool. Their children were dressed in pinks and baby blues. On the other hand, the local kids dressed like their parents, in stylish grown-up overcoats, boots and most importantly wearing an urban attitude. No holding their parents hands, no whining for ice cream. Just minding their own business and checking out the sights.
Although the night that I’ve just described may not seem extraordinary, the fact is that it was no ordinary night for me. Just as each day that I spent in the city, I discovered that it had at least one more interesting and unexpected characteristic. All I had to do was to keep my senses focused. And recognize these traits.
There is always a story to tell, a talent to watch, some people to meet or just the city to view. The multitude of races that live in near-perfect harmony. All the things that give New York City the character that it has are endless. It’s up to each one of us to recognize and indulge in them. Maybe my eyes saw things that weren’t really exceptional to a pair in someone else’s head. Maybe my heart made the ordinary seem extraordinary. Whatever the case may be, next week as I go back to the city that I love so dearly, I feel that I will become one with it. I may just be one in a few million that I share the space with. But my experiences will be distinctive and the time I spend with New York will be ‘specially’ mine.
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