New series alert! Since moving to New York about one month ago, I’ve had quite a few quintessentially New York encounters, experiences and exchanges. This is the first in a series of blog posts about these sorts of uncanny little vignettes, the “Bagel Moments” of my new life here . . . enjoy 😉
Oh the accent
When I walk down to the local grocer and chat for a bit about a West Indian parade coming up in Prospect Heights … it’s a super friendly exchange, he wants to know if I just moved in … and in a thick Brooklyn accent, “Welcome to da neighbahood.” Thanks, man, it’s been a warm welcome so far.
Looking at my calendar, I realize I have six employers, two consultancy clients, and four friends to catch up with this week.
All riched up and no one to love
Last night, standing at the coat check for a function at Questroyal Fine Arts, where the cheapest painting for sale was $19,000, a little old lady came tottering out, the same lady who ate every Hors d’oeuvre I offered that night, talking to no one in particular about her adventure that evening, “Fantastic paintings, fantastic prices!”
“Good you had such a nice time! Are you planning on taking any paintings home?”
She looks up at me, slightly cross-eyed, puts a hand on my arm and shakes her head solemnly.
“My husband’s in a care home. I have no idea what’s going to happen to me. I have so many paintings, anyway, all in my closets, and nowhere to put them. My friend Margaret, she has a huge mansion, paintings everywhere. I have nowhere to put mine. I could sell my house, for the money.”
“Is your husband OK? Do you have any family in New York?”
“No. They’re all dead.”
West Indian grooves
Doing a Caribbean Rhythms class at Crunch Gym (7 days free, woo hoo!), mesmerized by the teacher’s voodoo booty and what feats it’s capable of, I realize, I’m in the middle of Brooklyn, shakin’ it wild style, to some damn fine music, and as an added cherry on top, I meet another yogi in the class who lives right down the road. Solid.
And finally, not so much a Bagel Moment as a Bagel Reality
Living in a windowless apartment with four other perimeter surfers, sharing one bathroom, and lovin’ it up in a very cosy corner of the world – sweet Park Slope, you’re the best welcome New York can give 😉
I think I’m in the right place . . .
A New Yorker is a person with an almost inordinate interest in mental health, which is only natural considering how much of that it takes to live here. – New York Times