Thursday's Things New Yorkers Say: Words Best Unspoken

I don’t know who reads my blog.

Professionals, parents, friends, Virginians, New Yorkers, Canadians, kids – I’m not sure of the details, but statistically I know a few hundred tune into this website over the course of a week. And I truly thank you for the support.

That is why I’m also giving your fair warning; this is probably my raciest post to date. But it’s one of those stories that just must get told. So here is your chance to pull out… no? Okay.

Then let’s start at the beginning…

First you should know that I live in a very safe neighborhood. My roommate and I have never encountered any problems, even late at night. This is why yesterday, on my walk home around 10pm, I was surprised to stumble upon a persistent heckler.

I had just gotten off the phone with my sister, who was going to call me back in a few moments. Turning on Steinway, I passed two boys (and yes, I use the term “boys” in the most belittling of senses here) who were probably between ages 20 – 22.

“Hey… hey,” the one furthest from me says. I turn my head only slightly, keeping my pace.

“Are you an angel?” he asked with a serious face.

“Oh my gosh,” I say, rolling my eyes and passing him on the sidewalk. Not original. Not cute. Not anything I want to hear on my way home from work.

“I like your boots,” he calls ahead at me. This guy really wants to be heard. “But they clash you outfit! Oh burn…” he continues. Now I’m a ways in front of him and no longer interested in this child’s whiney request for attention. And I’m hungry.

Not a good combo.

“You look like Brittany Stone! You know who that is?” he says loudly. I didn’t, although I just Googled her. Turns out he either meant a past American Idol contestant… or a porn star. You decide.

Then he went there. He really pissed me off.

“Hey. HEY! Do you want to give me ****? HEY! Umbrella!” he shouts, I’m guessing because I’m holding my large plastic umbrella – which I’m now considering using as a weapon. “HEY UMBRELLA! DO YOU WANT TO GIVE ME ****!?”

You can interpret those 4 little stars any way you please, but let’s just say he was screaming an insulting, demeaning sexual request at the top of his lungs.

Now… I’m tired. I’m starving. I’m coming home from Bloomingdales after a long evening. And presently, someone is yelling at me. So no, I did not take the high road. No, I didn’t shout, “My body is a temple!” or “Back away from me crazy devil boy!”

I swiveled abruptly on my heel and screamed:

“DUDE. Shut the F*** UP!!”

Yes, I said that. I don’t curse at people very often – but this warranted something more powerful than a “Hey, can you stop that?” I wanted the whiney devil boy to know that it is not okay to scream insults at anyone who wonders by. It is not okay for women to walk home thinking they could be verbally harassed. It is NOT OKAY because you don’t treat human beings that way. And I wanted to be very loud about the whole situation so everyone on the street would know “I. Am. Not. Okay.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. I pivoted back around and saw a group of 5 guys appear out of nowhere. “Hey whoa – okay, we’ll take it from here,” one of them says. Another tells me to “just keep on walking.”

I don’t look at any of them. The offenders, the defenders – they’re all behind me now. My phone rings and I continue talking to my sister, like nothing happened. Just a regular night in New York.

Could I have handled the circumstances better? Yes. My anger attacked any form of reasonable vernacular. Would I suggest my outspoken tactics? No. Though I will admit, there was something very freeing about “talking back” to a force that degrades your existence.

In fact I have an exceedingly positive feeling about standing up for my standards of respect. Maybe one day I’ll have the matching maturity to not drop the F-bomb?

Eh. Well it’s a start.

So this “Thursday’s Things” is about the time Britney cursed out someone on the street and how she was a little embarrassed and a little proud of that fact.

All time favorite sign - Virginia Beach, VA.

Thursday's Things New Yorkers Say: Parks and Lunch

It had been a busy day at Bloomies.

I sought relief in my lunchtime, spent outside at a "park" of sorts near Lafayette and Spring. Subway sandwich in hand, I left for my much needed hour in civilization, without the thousands of questions and constant queries about restrooms or sale prices.

Of course everyone in New York had a similar idea.

I was lucky to find a seat on a park bench facing the sun. As I munched on my meal, I casually read a magazine and observed the world around me.

What it world it was...

First, two girls appear lost. They are looking for a street nowhere near our location, but seem to be working through their directional problems via iPhone. Suddenly, an Asian man who had been sitting near me jumps up to assist them.

"What are you looking foooor?" he shouts like a deaf man learning English, with his head stretched forward and his arms moving the opposite way of his body. It almost looked as though his clenched fists were propelling the words from his mouth. The two girls couldn't even pretend not to hear him. The whole freaking park could have listened in on this conversation if they so desired.

"Uh...er. Christopher Street?" one of them says, trying not to laugh. The other woman has her face turned away from the little man, chuckling despite herself.

"No. Not here," he says abruptly shaking his head once.

"Yeah, I know," she continues. "That's why we're looking for it." Somehow over a three-minute time period, they figure out where they're going. The Little Man is pleased with himself as he waves them onward. When the girls walk away, I hear one say, "What the heck was that?"

Then it was my turn for a little craziness...

A woman pulls up in a cab next to me, stopped at a red light.
"Excuse me!" she shouts out the window.
Surely she's not talking to me."Uh, um excuse me?"
I look up from my magazine, and catch her eye.

"The guy next to you..." she says twisting her head, trying to get the obviously foreign twenty-something's attention. He's laughing with his friend, speaking another language quickly, and oblivious to crazy taxi lady.

“Um… she wants you,” I say to the guy
“Where’d you get your hat!?” she says loudly.

“Wha?” the Foreigner says.
“Where’d you get your hat!?” Taxi Lady asks again.
Still no understanding registers on the man’s face.

Great. Now I'm involved.

“Where did you buy hat?” I ask him slowly, pronouncing each syl-lab-le.
“Um. Wha?” The Foreigner really doesn’t understand, and Taxi woman is beginning to look desperate because the red like is about to change.“Where – did – you – (insert me motioning “money” by rubbing my fingers and thumbs together) – buy – your – hat – (insert me pointing at his leopard baseball cap).

By the way, did I mention this was all over a leopard baseball cap?

Suddenly, out of nowhere Little Man jumps in the middle of our conversation, his head stretched out again, arms propelling him forward. “Where you get your hat frooooom?!” he yells.

This makes the Foreigner almost laugh, and I am beginning to giggle at the general situation. “Where you buy hat?” I say one last time.

“Oh,” he picks up the cap. “Japan.”

“Japan!” I shout to the Taxi Lady.
“JAPAN!!” Little Man shouts even louder.
“Oh. Thank you!” she says from the car. Little Man happily goes to talk with her for a moment. He then returns to me and ask, “You. Speak Japanese?”

Keep in mind; I’m just trying to eat my sandwich.

“No, haha not today,” I say. He smiles and walks away, ready to assist anyone on the street – and whether you want help or not, he will assist you.

I try to not laugh as I replay the scenario in my mind. The man on the bench next to me looks my direction, and out of the corner of his eye I see judgement! I know what he’s thinking. His stare is basically shouting, “I thought you were normal. That’s why I sat next to you. Just wanted to read my paper… and then people started screaming about Japan. I can’t believe you got involved. You were supposed to be normal.”

Well, buddy. This is New York. That was pretty freaking “normal”… whatever normal even means. And maybe, I don’t want to be as normal as you today.

********

This was a week full of...

fashion shows...

taxi rides...

phone snatchers...

birthday parties...

fabulous food...

and friends.

Thursday's Things New Yorkers Say: Coffee and Canned Soup

First, an update for those of you who aren’t on Twitter: I saw her! I finally saw Martha! She was taking photos with our new editor in chief and I caught a few glimpses from afar. While they were having the shoot, I was told to go into the editor’s office and finish putting up storyboards (snapshots of the pictures used for articles).

She returned, so typically I would vacate the office because you never know if a meeting or conference call is about to take place. But the editor was very sweet, and told me I could continue to my work.

Then suddenly she says, “Thanks for shooting with us Martha!”

My eyes dart to the door. I see a blonde woman walk by with her arm extended in a slight wave, and that trademark scary smile that always leaves you wondering.

Oh my lordy! It was HER! Homemaker, baker, gardener, and powerful businesswoman all wrapped up in one, like some complex casserole.

Now my internship is complete.

Speaking of the office, here’s a tidbit from today’s conversations for Thursday’s Things:

In the kitchen area at the magazine, around 1pm:

There were three of us.

One was warming something. One was pulling out milk from the fridge, and I was washing my coffee mug.

But I knew we were all there for the same thing. The coffee canister was slowly filling up with a warm, fresh batch of black deliciousness and the three of us wanted to be privy to the first couple cups. So one at a time we formed a small, almost subtle line.

“Here for coffee?” “Yep.” “Yep.”

There’s a moments pause while we all stare at the coffee maker with longing in our eyes. Drip drip drip. Could this take any longer?

Suddenly the woman in front of me starts swinging her arms back and forth, and sways from side to side. “This is my coffee dance!” she says. I laugh at her, but focus on the task at hand – I need coffee ASAP.

“We’re on the drip,” the other woman says. Hours seem to go by as the brown liquid gold flows hesitantly into the canister. Coffee Dancer begins to add a little hop to her dance, while Coffee Fiend #1 (and I am most certainly Coffee Fiend #2) starts to edge toward our desired beverage.

Drip. Pause. Drip. Pause.

Coffee Dancer quickly runs to the aid of the machine. I admire her motivation as she shakes the last droplets of water from the filter with a frenzied look upon her face. We Fiends #1 and #2 also step forward to prepare our mugs for that afternoon pick-me-up.

Coffee Fiend #1 turns to me, obviously excited about the beverage soon to rip through our bodies. “This is like extra-strength, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah” I say to her with crazy eyes and maybe a small twitch.

“And you know when you have, like, that chill in your brain??”

“Yeah, this’ll fix that!” I say and we both laugh like villains. Coffee Dancer has just filled her cup, and is eyeing the black pool with a look of ecstasy. Meanwhile, the three of us have caused a bit of a scene – people wonder by to see if there are any free samples from the test kitchen, only to be bitterly disappointed that no, in fact we are just really excited about the free coffee that’s available everyday.

“Like drug addicts on a street corner…” a man laughs at us as he walks by, shaking his head in mock disgust. Yes. We were. But it's the little things that can bring you immense joy throughout the week, and believe me, free food and beverage ranks high on my list.

“CHEERS!!” we three shout, and clink mugs most conspicuously, forever bonded by the love of that ferocious black drink.

********

Speaking of free food... My family sent box full of sustenance! The combos were gone on the first nights, the chocolate-covered pretzels are well on their way out. I desided to try some soup for dinner..

Might be sketch...

But I opted to give "Giant Chunky" a good ol' try.

Okay I ate the first half warm in a bowl. But then, I got hungry about two hours later...

So I may or may not have just eaten it out of the can...

And it was good.

Props to you "Giant Chunky." I know my old roommates want to throw up right now. But you guys weren't here to tell me not to eat things cold when saving time! Hehehe... yum.

Thursday's Things New Yorkers Say

Since I have inhabited New York City, I’ve met and socialized with many characters right from a movie or book. I’ve also overheard fragments of conversation or been approached with the strangest requests or suggestions. Much like someone contributing to overheardinnewyork.com, I too have been writing down all the interesting blah blah blah I encounter.

So I share with you some culture of the city. These short excerpts are directly from my notebook and completely unaltered (except for spelling mistakes because that’s just embarrassing):

1) Woman in Astoria talking to friends as she exits the N train:

“He hasn’t called. But I mean he said he would call. And I mean… he’s Greek. He’s crazy. So he’s going to call. It’s only been a week. And he said he was going out of town.” All friends nod in agreement.

Oh girl. This sounds like a scene out of “He’s Just Not That Into You.” He’s not going to call but your friends are too nice to tell you this.

2) Man talking to woman walking in SOHO:

“What if I murdered someone? Like, what would happen if I murdered someone?”

Stay away from me sir…

3) Man walking near Union Square, comment directed at moi:

“Yez eyes is pretty. You can stare and theys stars between em.”

Why thank you sir. Now help me find Bed Bath and Beyond because I’m ever so slightly lost…

4) Dude (who looks to be about 25) on the N Train talking to everyone:

“Hi my name is Swiss Cheese. Would you like to buy candy to help raise money for my senior trip?

I thought strangers were supposed to lure you with candy, not sell it. And has anyone ever joked with you about your name being holy? No… okay. Never mind, sorry. Forget I mentioned it.

Out and about in Late August:

Another birthday!

Shout out to Aunt Tracy for this recipe . They loved it :)

Favorite bartender.

So happy when Betsy's in town...

Pictures from Astoria Park:

NYC. The place to be.