Why I Love NYC

In the words of one of my favorite bloggers (Through the Looking Glass — a must-read), “Oh, that’s where I left my blog…” I won’t belabor the point, or the post, but simply get back to it.

Every once in a while I meet someone or observe a happening in NYC that involves a character that no one could actually write. No way. Because the eccentricity levels are beyond imagination, and the personality and physical package are just too much for one mind to envision. That’s why I love New York City.

In Soho, at a dive of a coffee shop — where of course the coffee rules — a woman, clearly a regular, popped in while Chris and I were making a coffee run before some of the shops opened. How did I know she was a regular?The person behind the counter visibly shut down. Chakras closed. Face walled off. She left us defenseless. But the next 10 minutes were pure NYC bliss…

  • She commented on the lighting — “Honey, you got a couple of bulbs burned out, unless you like it like this…” and as we were leaving, again called out, “You want me to come back there and fix that light for you?”
  • She personally answered Chris’ query to the woman behind the  counter about blueberry muffins with a full run-down on EVERY parcel of food in the display case. including what was normally in stock, and what they were out of.
  • And, when she engaged the two men behind us in conversation, was so surprised by the bass quality of one of the men, juxtaposed to his youthful appearance, that she responded with this: “Your voice is full of wisdom and age, but your face? It kind of looks like a grown-up Dennis the Menace or something.”

Ah, it’s good to be back… And I can’t tell you where that glorious little coffee shop was… Somewhere in Soho west of Wooster and east of West Broadway between Houston and Spring, a half a block up from a cute little park… just look for the dim lights and a woman asking to help brighten up the place a bit…

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