A Real New Yorker

I felt like a real New Yorker on my way to work this morning, because I was walking with my sack lunch and cup of coffee. And I bought an apple.

To backtrack... Yesterday morning on my way to work, I discovered the small nook-in-the-wall coffee shop I've been searching for. And it is ONE block from Centro Maria. I pass it every day.

I was in a hurry yesterday, so I didn't stop in, but this morning I did. The lady working was so nice, and as I was paying for my coffee, she offered to put my tupperware (containing my lunch) in a paper bag for me so it was easier to carry. So off I went, carrying my white paper bag and filled-to-the-brim, deliciously bitter cup of coffee.

The only problem with the coffee was that it was too hot at first for me to drink, so it kept overflowing out of the lid and onto my poor hand. But pain for beauty. Or in this case, authenticity. It was worth it, because I felt like a New Yorker.

I also bought an apple. Not significant, you say. I beg to differ. The ability to buy fruit from a vendor at lightning speed is a trait well cherished by those too important to stop their rushing about for anything.

The background story: Yesterday morning I decided I wanted to buy an apple from one of the vendors that sells fruit on a cart by the street. So I stopped, asked for an apple, and then stood there fishing two quarters out of my wallet. As I fumbled around in my purse, a woman came buy, shoved a few quarters at the vendor, grabbed her fruit and rushed off. All in less than thirty seconds. And I was still opening my wallet.

But not this morning. I was prepared. I pulled out two quarters as soon as the stand was in view, and in a relatively quick stop, I smiled at the little man, handed him my quarters and retrieved my apple. I guess I must content myself with not being completely New Yorker in this area, because I just couldn't bring myself to not make eye contact and swoop in like bat out of hell just to be quick about getting a piece of fruit.