Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Welcome home

My first interaction in New York City (assuming anything before customs isn't really NYC) went something like this: I was starving, and standing in line at the only kiosk open for a diet pepsi and an apple. There were three people in front of me. One random person already receiving their coffee when I arrived, and two women: middle-aged, short, portly. They were standing next to each other, but the one on the right was probably next in line. So when the first person turned and walked off with his coffee, the lady on the right opened her mouth to start asking for tea while the woman on the left attempted to push her bag of chips at the attendant. Lady on the right did NOT like this. "Excuse me, I was on line first, wait you turn." Boom. The lady on the left seemed quite shocked by brass New York-ness. She also seemed quite foreign, and the distinct Anglo rules towards the queue probably didn't entirely register with her. But still, that's New York. And it got me so excited to hear it that it was hard for me not to hug lady on the right. (I refrained; she probably would have slapped me).

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