1 p.m., Thursday, August 14, 2008.
Walking 34th Street between Fifth Avenue and Broadway.
A skinny white homeless guy pushes a shopping cart with a boombox playing “Different strokes for different folks, and so on and so on and scooby-dooby-doo-bee…”
A portly man in a checkered shirt walks in front of a delivery truck blocking the intersection and the driver leans out to yell, “Fatty, get out my way! Eat my s***, b***!”
City Sights NY ticket agents in yellow vests accost families of tourists to show them their menus of inflated prices for bus loops and attractions. Gray Line ticket agents in red vests do the same. They all speak in thick Caribbean accents. I am ignored because I’m a solitary young woman in heels.
European teenagers block the sidewalk.
Ticket sellers for the Empire State Building shout, “There’s a two-hour wait! Get your fast-track here!”
A young white bearded guy sits on the sidewalk with the cardboard sign: “Iraqi War Veteran and Homeless. Please Help.”
The Empire State Building doorman with the gold tooth and the burgundy uniform tells someone for the umpteenth time that day that the visitor entrance is around the corner.
A Pakistani family poses for a picture with the foam Statue of Liberty in front of The City That Never Sleeps Souvenirs Shop. Two doors down, a rotund American woman in pink rubber flip-flops poses with the foam Statue of Liberty in front of the 34th St. Souvenirs Shop.
A woman in a short dress bums a smoke from a stylish girl outside Strawberry.
A motley line of tourists waits for the double-decker buses for which they’ve each paid upwards of $40 to the vested ticket agents down the street.
A twenty-something woman tells her out-of-town lesbian friend, “You can usually tell where south is by looking to see where the Empire State Building is. I don’t know why you can’t see it right now. …Hey, I got a movie callback—that never happens!”
I continue on to Kmart.
Walking 34th Street between Fifth Avenue and Broadway.
A skinny white homeless guy pushes a shopping cart with a boombox playing “Different strokes for different folks, and so on and so on and scooby-dooby-doo-bee…”
A portly man in a checkered shirt walks in front of a delivery truck blocking the intersection and the driver leans out to yell, “Fatty, get out my way! Eat my s***, b***!”
City Sights NY ticket agents in yellow vests accost families of tourists to show them their menus of inflated prices for bus loops and attractions. Gray Line ticket agents in red vests do the same. They all speak in thick Caribbean accents. I am ignored because I’m a solitary young woman in heels.
European teenagers block the sidewalk.
Ticket sellers for the Empire State Building shout, “There’s a two-hour wait! Get your fast-track here!”
A young white bearded guy sits on the sidewalk with the cardboard sign: “Iraqi War Veteran and Homeless. Please Help.”
The Empire State Building doorman with the gold tooth and the burgundy uniform tells someone for the umpteenth time that day that the visitor entrance is around the corner.
A Pakistani family poses for a picture with the foam Statue of Liberty in front of The City That Never Sleeps Souvenirs Shop. Two doors down, a rotund American woman in pink rubber flip-flops poses with the foam Statue of Liberty in front of the 34th St. Souvenirs Shop.
A woman in a short dress bums a smoke from a stylish girl outside Strawberry.
A motley line of tourists waits for the double-decker buses for which they’ve each paid upwards of $40 to the vested ticket agents down the street.
A twenty-something woman tells her out-of-town lesbian friend, “You can usually tell where south is by looking to see where the Empire State Building is. I don’t know why you can’t see it right now. …Hey, I got a movie callback—that never happens!”
I continue on to Kmart.
5 comments:
That was great. My favorite post recently. It was like setting the scene in a novel. Did you remember all that or did you take notes? My memory is not that good. Thanks for a few moments in New York.
There are Kmarts in New York?
But no Super-Ks, I'm guessing.
Thanks, Steven! Yeah, I just remembered it. Kind of a fun little journalistic game. I just realized that we walk past this stuff all day long and pay no mind, but to someone from elsewhere, it might be kind of interesting.
E: There are two Kmarts in Manhattan that I know of, but no one goes there. They are always empty. Now, the Target in Brooklyn--that place is insane!
Me, I go there. Once I went and no one was wearing pants. And I was awake. Kari can verify.
Bet you're really missing the downtown riverside park right about now, aren't you?
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