Archive for ‘Mulberry Street’

November 14, 2009

MS 11/13/09: Errands Day

Today in the laundry mat, I opened a washer, only to find it full of clothes. Thinking it was finished laundry, I pushed the door to and started loading up another machine. A pretty young blond Polish lady came over, shut the door I had opened firmly, turned around and shot me an extended glare as if I had just straight up pissed in her cereal. She then put her laundry detergent back behind the counter, and barked at the Korean teenage girl on staff, ‘This here mine. Don’t let nobody take.’

‘Yours?’ repeated the girl, confused.

‘Yes. This. Mine. Don’t let nobody take,’ the woman repeated, and left.

After that, I went to the grocery store, and I was rounding the end of the dairy aisle, I heard some major carrying on behind a swinging door. A woman in a white butcher’s apron was prancing back and forth, texting, and jubilantly singing something mocking in Spanish, and totally cracking herself up. She was totally cracking up another butcher, as well, who had his back to her and was using a cleaver to hack at hunks of red meat strewn all over a table.

‘Spanish spanish spanish spaaaaanish,’ sang the woman. ‘Ha, ha, ha, HA!’

‘Woo, ai, ai,’ agreed the man, swinging his cleaver.

‘Spaaaaanish, spaanish, duh-duh-dum, Spanish, heee hee hee heee,’ sang the woman.

‘Mwah, huh, huh, huh, HUH!’ shouted the man, hacking away.

I really wanted to work there, suddenly.

November 13, 2009

MS 11/12/09: Annoyances

One of the many annoyances of living in NYC is that a production shoot will frequently interrupt your daily routine. Today was a freezing cold, windy and rainy day, but for some reason, everybody was shooting in Greenpoint. Some project had trailers parked all up and down Driggs Ave., but I didn’t see anyone out in the weather, other than a few workers taping down wires. Then, there was a commercial shooting at the track. A little tent had been erected next to the track, and about ten people and all their equipment huddled under it. A guy dressed like a referee stood out on the track opposite four muscular dudes in summer running gear, who posed squatted down as if about to race. They must have been freezing. An aide with a showy sense of urgency stopped me and requested I run around behind the tent, so as not to mess up their shot, so I had to squelch through the mud, dodging trees and benches, every time I did a lap.

Exiting the food court adjacent to the Lex & 53rd subway station, an Indian guy in some sort of food industry uniform chased two Hispanic guys who both wore a different restaurant’s uniform. ‘Mexico, Mexico, everybody from Mexico!’ the Indian guy was saying, while the two other guys rolled their eyes at each other, and clearly tried to out-walk him. ‘I love tacos! But I am just not [unintelligible]. Seriously, Mexico is a beautiful country, a gorgeous country.’

On Park Avenue, a car failed to go promptly at a green light, causing several cars to lay on their horns for a good long while, which in turn interrupted the phone conversation of a thin blond woman whose tweed pencil skirt met her black leather boots in a perfect horizontal line across her kneecaps. ‘It’s just so loud here,’ she screamed into the phone. ‘It is just too loud, I mean. This whole city, I don’t – this city is soloud, and I really, I feel sorry for people who have to…’

November 12, 2009

MS 11/11/09: RIP

Blowsy tourist lady on Madison Ave. screaming into her cell phone:

‘So, then where are you, where do you wanna meet? Oh, and Amelia said something about, uh, Ranger, so I told her Ranger got sick and died.’

November 11, 2009

MS 11/10/09: Ribbons

A very thin young Hassid arrived at the exercise area next to the running track, and shed his black coat and cap. In his vest, shirtsleeves, slacks and tendrils, he spent some time in a standing position, swinging his thin legs in nearly complete circles, dancers’ arcs, with much enthusiasm. People on nearby benches stared.

On my next revolution, he was bent over backwards walking his hands down the spindly trunk of a tiny yellow-flowered tree, attempting to get into a full backbend (I guess). He got about halfway.

On my next revolution, he was hanging by his knees from the overhead bars, with his tendrils hanging straight down, and also his thin thighs and arms, and also the four long strings of his special penile guard (which was also hanging upside down, abandoning its post). He appeared to be a collection of strands and ribbons, and his limbs were like ribbons he was pitching in all directions.

On my next revolution, he was sitting in half-lotus on the grass, holding a cigarette in a fancy way – with his hand extended palm up.

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November 10, 2009

MS 11/9/09: Wall Street

I had to go all the way down to the Financial District today, which hasn’t happened since…ever. Now that I think about it, it was the first time I’d been down in that particular area, and I was sad I didn’t have time to linger. I saw the Stock Exchange, with a massive security cordon out front and tons of tourists snapping shots, and Trinity Church, and Federal Hall, with the big bronze statue of George Washington out front. He had a little cardboard sign in his hand, which read ‘Free Bonuses!’ Several of the streets (which are narrow and cobbled, in an oddly quaint way) were shut down as pedestrian walkways, which was nice. The tourists were all in tight clumps, so they were easy to circumnavigate. I didn’t pass the Wall Street bull statue, but I did see a vendor selling mini Wall Street bulls decorated in different patterns for “only” $10, which I thought was stupidly high. Although I only walked around down there for about ten minutes total, during that time, not one, but two older men came up to me, despite my headphones and lack of eye contact, to ask hopefully if I might need some directions, miss. (New Yorkers really love to give directions, particularly to young women.) And there was a man wearing a sandwich board, which said something about corporate greed and American capitalist repression, but what I really noticed was the young man interviewing the sandwich-board wearer and taking notes on a little pad. Undoubtedly sourcing local color in hopes of selling a freelance article somewhere. Everything down there looked as overall gray as Dorothy’s Kansas, but that might have just been the weather, or possibly my psychological response to anywhere money is actually made.

November 7, 2009

Mulberry Street 11/6/09

A painfully awkward-looking guy in skinny jeans, and a precise-looking girl in tights and ankle boots shopped for fruit at the corner store. I would guess they were on about a fourth date. They blocked the entryway.

Girl: ‘Should we get fruit and other stuff, or…do you think…’

Guy: ‘I mean…I don’t really…’

(Long pause, during which other shoppers pushed them further into the store.)

Girl: ‘Ok, well, let’s just get fruit then, and that’s it.’

Guy: ‘Ok! Yeah!’

Girl: ‘Oh, God, I don’t even know. Do we need something for like a base, like juice, or…’

Guy: ‘…’

Girl: ‘Well, I guess we should get apples, yeah?’

Guy: ‘…’

Girl: ‘Should we, do you like red delicious apples?’

Guy: ‘Sure. Oh, sorry.’

Me: ‘Excuse me.’

Girl: ‘These are my favorite kind of apples, actually!’

Guy: ‘Yeah?!’

(Another long pause.)

Girl: ‘What? What are you laughing at?’

Guy: ‘Nothing! I just think it’s really funny that we’re making smoothies.’

Girl: ‘We are not making smoothies!’

Guy: ‘Yeah, I know. But like (mumble) funny if we were.’

Girl: ‘Should we get a mango? Excuse me.’

Me: ‘Oh, sorry.’

Girl: ‘Mango?’

Guy: ‘…’

Girl: ‘These are hard, though. It would need to be soft. Um…’

Guy: ‘…’

Girl: ‘Well, I’m going to get a carrot.’

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November 6, 2009

Mulberry Street 11/5/09

On the G-train, a middle-aged white guy in construction clothes with a push-broom mustache and summerteeth screamed at his copy of the New York Post.

‘Oh, Jesus! That’s what you get for hanging with Giuliani!!’

I’m guessing he was perhaps remarking on this story?

It’s been a big week for NYC – Halloween, marathon, election, and I think there was some sort of sports thing that got people all wound up. Also, my roommate and I conducted (and concluded) a successful apartment search this week — no mean feat, I assure you. TGIF.

November 5, 2009

Mulberry Street 11/4/09

A quiet day along my route – I looked high and low, but saw nothing of interest.

However, entering the subway tunnel for my commute home, I immediately spotted a large gold-colored teardrop earring with a black stone in the center lying on the ground. I looked around a little, and sure enough, a bit to my left was a woman in a matching earring. I handed her the one I found, and went back to my position. Another woman, who was standing in between me and the woman with the lost earring, said something to lost-earring woman, who laughed. And then the woman who’d spoken said something to me.

‘Huh?’ I said, removing my headphones (I can’t hear a thing with them on).

‘I said, you are very observant,’ she repeated.

So, I suppose this blog series is already having the intended effect!

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November 4, 2009

Mulberry Street 11/3/09

There is a cat that watches me from the other side of the fence behind my house. It is small and black-and-white, with green eyes and lots of whiskers, like a catfish. This morning, it was watching another black-and-white cat make its way slowly across our back patio. This strange cat was huge and fat and slow moving. It walked over to a bunch of stuff covered in blue tarp, and sniffed and licked all along the edges, slowly. Then, it disappeared behind the tarp. The little cat jumped in concern, and leapt over the fence. It ran over to the tarp, and started meowing. The big cat stuck its head out and looked at the little cat. The little cat’s meows turned to screams. Slowly, and by degrees, the big cat emerged from the tarp, all while the little cat kept yowling at it. They moved into the center of the patio and sat down facing each other. The little cat yowled repeatedly while the big cat silently considered him. Eventually, I banged on the window.

Later, on a busy street corner, a pinched-looking blond woman in a quilted jacket bawled out a nicely dressed little girl. ‘That’s disgusting!’ screamed the woman. ‘How dare you!?! Do you think that man on the train was (unintelligible), is that what you think?’ The little girl was methodically eating candy stickers off a large sheet of wax paper from Dylan’s Candy Shop. She said nothing, and ignored the screaming woman as best she could. So did a swarm of humiliated-looking business men trying to squeeze past them.

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November 3, 2009

Mulberry Street 11/2/09

In an attempt to combat my habitual blindness to my everyday surroundings (and to give me something more positive to focus on than how irritating everyone around me is), I am going to try to take note of at least one interesting thing per day and describe it on this blog.

G-train conductor: “We are approaching the final stop on this G-train. When you exit the train, please be sure to take all your belongings with you, as well as any refuse, plastic drink receptacles, food containers and etc. On behalf of the train crew, we would like to thank you for riding with MTA, New York’s premier choice in public transportation.”

Lots of people all around Midtown East today wearing marathon completion medals.

Outside my office building, I saw an elderly man with a long, snowy beard, wearing a hunter green windbreaker and bike chain as if he were a bike messenger. He was too old to be a bike messenger, however, and was standing sadly astride his bike, which was painted black and had odd, red streamers coming out of the handle bars, and which had fallen over in the street. He stood there for a bit, looking around him mournfully, then remounted and wobbled up Madison Ave.

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