Wednesday, April 22, 2009
New York, New York. It's a Hell of a (small) Town
The most densely populated major US city. A concrete jungle. Another 100 people just got off of the train. This place is just a zoo. Oh and I think there are like 5 of those alone. Argggh. A sardine tin with extra sprinkles.
But then why do I feel like I live in a tiny village where the inhabitants are played by a repertory company?
When I first moved here I crashed into an old friend from LA on the subway. This requires us not to just be taking the same line, but we have to get on the actual same car. And the yoga instructor that you had this morning will end up playing a theatre patron in Row F at "Desire Under the Elms" this evening. I have been at events where people from distinctly other parts of my life show up as if there were a call for extras. If I were so inclined (and so in demand) to have an affair I would take it to a motel in Paramus. I wouldn't risk Inwood as being remote enough.
And everyone is so damned nice. This is not your father's New York. (Actually my father's New York was Irish, Italian and Jewish gangs all vying for someones bicycle. But boy could they all jeté.) When I walk down the street I nod to the guy on the stoop with the dog and that woman with the cigarette always dangling out of her mouth like that cartoon strip broad. And there is that lovely commercial actress who is always so pleasant and says hello to me every time like she operates the fruit stand in the square. I always get a warm grin-as-a-second-lauguage from the guy who does my laundry. The only unhappy people in New York are the check out girls at Zabars. Poor things. I DO NOT know what is the source of their sadness.
My friend Ron told me soon after I arrived on these shores that this town was too small for me, but I really think this is most peoples' pleasant experience here. There is just this small town thing. Even if I tried to hide (which I have no desire to) in a mahjong game in a back alley in Chinatown, I am sure I would be sitting in between my 8th grade teacher and the receptionist from the Ear Nose and Throat doctor.
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1 comment:
Now that you're wrapping up French, you'll probably bump into beaucoups des amis wandering around notre ville. Je t'embrasse.
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