Friday, March 20, 2015

OC: Single and the City (7-13-12)


I sit in a bookstore as the Indian summer sun streams through a window and paints a shining rectangle on the hard wood floor of the café area. Meanwhile a tiny Fall chill manages to sneak in the door behind each new customer.
The bookstore has livened up since I arrived. The lunch hour crowd. Looking out the window I note the TGIF bounce in people’s steps. Some hardy souls still in short sleeves and tees, others in sweaters or jackets. Some even scarved and gloved.
I savor the coffee. “Tall vanilla latte with skim.” The nice clerk repeated it loudly and respectfully as if I had just concocted a clever new way to prepare coffee. I put an extravagant tip into the plastic square box. Ridiculous of me. Considering the price of coffee. Considering that his good will was genuine and not monetarily motivated.
I am just fresh from the nearby post office. One of the clerks there, African American, and I, of Danish/Irish descent, share the same last name. “Good morning, Mrs, X______ !” he dramatically will sing out to me. “Good morning, Mr. X_____,” I greet back. “My sister!” he explains to the curious clerks and customers and we share a good laugh. This is New York City. I am middle-aged and single. Such random moments of comraderie are precious to me.
I sip the coffee and suddenly crave being with my parents. They both have passed on within the past half a dozen years. We didn’t always have easy times of it, but I hunger for them at their expansive best. I find myself irrationally jealous and quietly objecting when any chronological peer of mine refers to a living parent. How can that be? With me missing mine? How unfeeling I probably was to adult children already orphaned even earlier than me.
My Dad would sometimes embarrass me being too hearty and self-disclosing to random service people, hell, ANY ONE, along his path. He’d been a postal employee. This I’d disclosed to my postal name-sake pal mentioned above upon our first exchange and that alone seemed to permanently cement our acquaintanceship. My father was a conscientious worker who delivered that extra measure of good will along with the mail to his customers. Some appreciated him, some rebuffed him. It never dampened his curiosity and warmth to life’s fellow travelers. My cousin and I both coincidentally chose the same quote for his eulogy. Will Rogers. “A stranger is a friend I have not yet met.”
My mother was more clannish but she, too, easily bonded with people. She was far more tentative in her approach than my Dad, perhaps awaiting a clearer invitation from a stranger. But the family used to joke how after fifteen minutes in a waiting room with a stranger my mother would find a special connection with anyone. It was almost a desperate mandate to expand her “clannishness” to include them. Some common denominator with someone. Someone who went to school with her cousin, or who grew up in the same neighborhood. Whatever. There was always a big celebration of whatever linkage was discovered between my mother and her fresh “clan” member.
The older I get, the more I seem to become extroverted in the style of my father with strangers. It alarms me a bit. I mean this is New York City for heaven’s sake. My first year here my long-time NYC resident brother, moving west, over-protectively insisted I avoid all eye contact whenever on the street. That was decades ago. I never felt such a need then or now.
I seem most compulsively expansive after my long, overnight word-processing shifts at a high-powered law firm. Giddy from sleep-deprivation and freedom having been released from particularly long work marathons, I chatter and self disclose to any service people helplessly in my path. Some appreciate the unexpected warmth and intimacy, others give me a withering, “whatever” look. I sometimes wonder if I am being pathetic and ridiculous. Downright eccentric?
People in my mid-age bracket, old friends or possible new ones, don’t seem to have the time to invest in random exchanges let alone readily cultivating new friendships. Their energy and good will is already spoken for by significant others, spouses, children, siblings, and/or a best friend or two. They have also become more self protective and efficient in protecting their time and social boundaries. More power to them.
At the beginning of the old movie, Charade, Audrey Hepburn flirts with Cary Grant upon a first meeting. “I have an awful lot of friends already,” she asserts, “And until one dies …” She then shrugs prettily, her point teasingly made. “Let me know if anyone goes on the critical list” he counters in that so-Cary-cavalier way. Soon after, Audrey’s husband is thrown from a train, dead, in his pajamas -- dramatically an intimate space has opened up in Audrey’s world -- and Cary joins forces with the lovely heroine in solving his murder.
At an art exhibit the other day I was admiring a cityscape alongside a handsome man, my age. Suddenly a woman entered the “zone” and gave me a punishing glare. She was staking her claim to him, I suppose. The fellow and I had not exchanged eye contact or a smile, yet I felt somehow busted and chastised for remarking to myself how handsome he was. I also had some awe for the sensitivity of that woman’s antenna when it came to her man. Like those earnest dogs that manage to keep the sheep herded safely. Hah!
Nevertheless, New York City. I appreciate it so. I can’t remember who remarked that in New York “the people are the scenery.” That is so true. And yet, they are more. Sure the overpopulation can prove chafing in spots, but it can also provide a fellowship to those of us who are not cozily enmeshed in a more traditional family tribe. I give it that.
I gulp down the rest of my coffee, pull on my heavy sweater and head home under a delicious and brilliant Indian summer sky to two adorable cats.
Stupid sheep herder!! PFFT!! :D
Libby, this is such a good work. I enjoyed drinking coffee with you in New York, and next time imagine me next to you, (I drink freedo, sweet)!

Believe me, it is such a strength, drinking coffee alone..Here, in my town, there are 2 ρlaces where I can have an alone coffee, without being looked at or questioned or annoyed. Drinking coffee, or eating alone, is not of womens doings here in Greece, shoρρing alone, walking alone, yes...but for a woman to go to a club alone, or to a restaurant or to a movie alone, well, not very common here.

I take a book with me, as a friend, I like to watch to the ρeoρle, maybe overhear their conversations... I must tell you that one never knows when love will come. To me it came, when I had all forgotten about relationshiρs and love, and was having the greatest time of my life with my friends.. And I felt in love...Suddenly...with no intention.

Maybe love is one of the things that finds us, when we do not search it...

Be well and rocking, my friend, I so much enjoyed learning about you, the city, your family!!
Thanks, Tink. Yeah, I think they call it the "territorial imperative." Particularly ferocious apparently when the territory is a husband or boyfriend. I'm so not the vamp type, trust me. Sigh. best, libby
My great great grandfather was the postmaster of a little town in Northern Ireland. That's a gift to be able to connect with people the way mail carriers do and you inherited it. We chat with the UPS guy in my office every day and shared champagne with him when his wife had a baby. Community building is the best thing us single folks do.
Stathi, you are so kind and supportive. Thanks.

This I came across in one of my journals from a while ago and it kind of poured out I remember as I sat in that bookstore coffee bar after a hard work shift.

Sometimes I let rush hour go by before jumping on a subway since I am moving rather slowly in my post-work addled state of exhaustion and that altered-state of mellow good will I described, as opposed to many of my fellow New Yorkers carrying the stress of their upcoming work day. I don't want to fight for even standing room on a subway when I can wait a bit and have a seat heading home as soon as rushhour is over. (remember my musical chairs poem)

I figured it was a tiny slice of the single city life. Not a very dramatic slice, though.

When one is just letting thoughts pour out about one's personal life self-indulgently, even about one's family, one, me, really wonders if they have any possible interest to anyone else. It is definite risk-taking. I think I get courage from the courage of fellow saloners! To self-disclose and test out a piece of writing. See what flies and what doesn't.

It's been a while since I went through serious self-consciousness and reluctance going out alone as a single in public on date nights, etc. NYC is so populated with singles it is usually no biggie. Clubs and bars I'm still shy to go alone to, but not restaurants or movies or plays or exhibits, etc.

Though a while back I was coming home from something on a Saturday night and went by a neighborhood Chinese restaurant and had a yen for an egg roll. So I decided to pop in and order one from the take out counter and munch on it on the walk home.

The restaurant was a classy one and filled with tables with couples. Candles flickering. Lights dimmed. Week nights it was far less classy looking and far less populated and brighter. For some reason the guy behind the counter instead of writing down my order and sending it to the back, much to my horror yelled across the room, "Just ONE egg roll!" I swear the whole room quieted and people turned around to check out the pathetic creature there for that one lonely egg roll. I think I actually gasped out, "Dear God!" as I was inspected by the room full of people.

It was almost funny in the moment but not quite. Still a burn of shame. I felt like Bridget Jones in that scene when all the couples are interrogating her and she explains she is single because she has scales covering every inch of her body. HAH!

One egg roll to nibble on on the way home. It seemed like a good idea at the time. There used to be an old song called "One Meatball!" and ends with "you get no bread with one meatball!" I think that flitted through my brain, too.

The other thing about being a single and going to a restaurant is often the impatience of the wait staff to get rid of you once you are done eating. It is a double standard for multiple parties. More than one person at a booth or a table are given so much slack to stay and chat away. Often I bring a journal or book, too, and linger over coffee. To deal with this at my usual restaurants, I willingly over-tip and schmooze a bit extra to encourage elbow room time and extra patience for the next time I go in. I also don't let not so subtle hints from waiters rattle me when my emotional clock needs to stay an extra measure and the restaurant is not all that busy and I feel hustled because I am just one person.

Stathi, I am so glad you found love and it found you!!!! You are so generous with it clearly!

I was such a codependent growing up, I think I am afraid unless I am alone it comes way too naturally, or the word is compulsively. Losing the focus on myself. Also ADHD is a factor to the mix, too, that makes me want to have privacy to sort through daily life. Focusing on and organizing for me, myself and I is formidable. So it goes.

:-)

best, libby
xxxx
nilesite, I love how you put all that.

The town postmaster was a position at the heart of the community assuredly. Relate to your Irish ancestry, too.

yes, singles I am sure invest more in wider circles beyond families. Have the empathy from their own circumstances, too, to community organize.

I really think I inherited a blue collar perspective from my Dad, too. The working class. To appreciate them, especially those in service industries. He lectured us on tipping well. He could be tight with money every where else, but not there. Grew up with his songs "I've been working on the railroad", "16 tons", etc. My dad was fine with being in the working class strata, my mother was more ambitious for the family and her kids.

Also, my Danish great aunt, single, was a chamber maid who kept her family afloat in hard times on a meager salary but stretched it and saved it and shared it. Quiet and unassuming she was a real workhorse and always sustained such dignity despite the humble and uncelebrated job situation.

best, libby
Such warmth exuded in this post, Libby. Your brother's remark about not making eye contact made me smile. It's one of those things us NY natives feel obligated to tell tourists sometimes, as if it will shield them from all the evils and dangers lurking in the Big City.
Now that you're part of my clan, Libby...a sense of simpatico, overtipping friendly baristas, et. al., I feel less shy about gushing over this leisurely, finely tuned, keenly aware, light-hearted peek inside a mind and heart I'm certain would soon have been engaging the handsome art-lover's antennae had the shepherd's not been so acutely tuned. Perhaps she will fall from a train shortly and...
Thank you for taking us with you. Well written. I agree with Matt. I am a schmoozer. In short spurts. Sitting at a lunch counter as a regular was good for me when I was single. I still like to check in with the locals. We do clan up.
I like your comments as much as I like the post. Living single at middle age as a woman is an art form, I am learning. So many people here are doing it and doing it well. Yourself included.

The one thing that bugs me and luckily I have quashed most of it in my life, is everyone assuming we are looking for a man. While companionship would be nice, statistically it is impossible for every woman in the world to have a man. The numbers have us outnumbering them. Then you factor in the men who aren't looking for a woman and where does that leave us? Single, of course, and doing quite well.
I lived in NYC for 12 years, '76-'88. I will always treasure that time. Back there just a couple of weeks ago, I hit a few of my favorite spots, "my"NY. It's a feeling I thinkevery "New Yorker" has, always. Thanks for this post.
Excellent portrait, Libby.
I came upon you via Matt Proust's glowing recommendation in the Reader's Pick page. You didn't disappoint. I am much older than you but like you have found that I have become very expansive toward strangers in my later years. Why this should be so, I have no clue. I have always been shy and one of my standard lines is that I was so shy in high school I didn't even talk to myself. R
@Gerald - yes, me too - my kids think it's senility creeping up on me, that I will strike up a conversation with anyone anywhere (well, almost), shy beginnings. It's just about my favorite pastime.
@Libby - I immediately flashed over to "one meatball" when I read your "one eggroll" episode. The song was popular in the late Depression period I think, but more to the point you should have shoved it in that server's face, as a REAL New Yorker would have done.
I so enjoyed meandering through your mind with you on that brilliant autumn morning. I'm like you and your father, I guess -- always have been. My sister is famous for telling people I will talk to a fencepost.

Lezlie
I'm not sure other people love their cities like New Yorkers do. It's part of the allure for me, along with what you've shown in this post-- little discoveries and bits of magic at every turn and corner. When I visit, I always enjoy every minute and leave wanting to stay a while longer--also like this post. Nicely done.
Erica, thanks so much! I look forward to exchanging more of our personal NY stories. :-) The eye contact advice was at first rather daunting from my brother. Though I have to admit moving to NYC one does have to learn to put on a kind of "dogface" impassive mask for subway travel, etc., since New Yorkers do use each other as scenery and entertainment and seem to more boldly examine each other at times (as I say especially sitting on a bus or in a subway car or even in a restaurant). Examine each other with such an idle boldness iirc (it's been so long I've been here) many outside NYC would be way too delicate to inflict.

Also, the dogface mask is used to gird oneself from an occasional unexpected shock from person or situation so it helps to detach from the scenario, don't register your shock and awe on your face. Good or bad, it becomes a habitual self-protection.

Though with the prevalence of the cell phone, a lot more New York faces lose the dog face indifference as people chatter away on their cell phones. They can't sustain the public facial girding during chats with the intimates. It creates more noise on the streets maybe, but more pleasant facial animation!

love, libby
xxx
Matt, thanks for another visit! you so crack me up re that poor woman falling out of a train image ... in HER pajamas, too, eh? As long as we're having that movie fantasy scenario I'll polish it off. Tch tch. Naughty us.

I am not surprised you too belong to that over-tipping, barista schmoozing clan. You are so cyber generous, I bet you are beloved IRL.

I wonder, particularly in NYC, if some of us need to small-townize the big city by ritualizing our visits to particular places to be recognized and acknowledged by "regulars" there. I think of Norm at Cheers. Wasn't there one episode where the Cheers folk discovered that they weren't the only folk who exclaimed "NORM!!!" when Norm walked thru the door. They were a little shocked by this, wasn't he their mascot alone??? best, libby xxx
Ande, nice to see you. Thanks for the validation of the singles' agenda to bond with friendly service people willing to give a measure of TLC along with the basics. I'm hoping the dynamic was win/win for all parties! :-) best, libby xxxx
Just phyllis, thanks so much for your support and appreciation of my often long winded comments.

I so appreciate your remarks on being middle ages and single so much:

"Living single at middle age as a woman is an art form, I am learning. So many people here are doing it and doing it well. Yourself included."

Yes, I think living in New York where every minority is a comparative majority really helped the being single choice.

This is important. You write:

"The one thing that bugs me and luckily I have quashed most of it in my life, is everyone assuming we are looking for a man. While companionship would be nice, statistically it is impossible for every woman in the world to have a man. The numbers have us outnumbering them. Then you factor in the men who aren't looking for a woman and where does that leave us? Single, of course, and doing quite well."

Absolutely! In fact far better to be single than to be uncomfortably untangled and settling. They say single women and married men live the longest. Hmmmm.

I don't know if you'll catch this responding comment of mine but one of the funniest New York stories -- showing just how tough we incrementally get -- was from a friend who once told me about the interesting behavior of members of a movie audience, herself included. The movie was about to begin when a troubled man talking to himself wended his way to the front to find one of the seats still left. As he chattered away to himself people wearily began to collect their things to try to find alternate seating away from him. Suddenly the man said to his imaginary cohort, "Now SHUT UP! I really want to SEE this movie!!!" The audience members including my friend paused, looked at one another, decided to take him at his word and relieved, sat back down in their seats just as the movie commenced. Only in New York!

best, libby
xxx
Rob, you had a substantial taste of NYC for sure those years! My brother often quotes the description of it as "the biggest free show in the world!" I know I will kick myself if and when I move away that I didn't spend more time enjoying all it has to offer. Usually it takes a visiting tourist-relative or friend to get one out and about to show off all that we who live here forget about and take for granted -- museums and shows and historical places. For a while I was trying to do something special and New Yorky once a week. That didn't last long but I would like to get back to doing that more than I do now. Maybe writing that here will help me!

Thanks for visiting! best, libby
toritto and jmac, so good to see you -- my "regulars"! :-) gotta get over and visit your sites. Am about to dash to the job but maybe during break time I can slip into open salon! jmac, gotta see the makeover! best, libby xxx
Gerald, thanks for visiting. I appreciate your writing. I do think that as we get older we do become much friendlier. One of my California brothers recently confided that he saw himself becoming more and more like Dad blurting out personal stuff to strangers in his path, too and wondered if it were happening to me, too. I confirmed. We had made excessive fun of Dad for doing that, and here we are doing the same thing!

You really made me laugh:

I have always been shy and one of my standard lines is that I was so shy in high school I didn't even talk to myself.

Hah! That in turn reminds me of a joke I don't think I can fully remember -- hmmm, should I offer? -- something about an "engineer" was it? How can you tell if an engineer is extroverted? When he talks to you he looks at your shoes rather than his own.

best, libby
ordinary joe, am looking forward to reading your blog soon. Glad to hear you are a friendly discloser, too. I think in NYC there are so many accessible temporary sympathetic ears ... like the phenomenon of blurting out personal stuff to a stranger on a plane you don't have to worry about seeing later. Though less plane confiding I'm thinking with all the electronic gizmos now.

"One meatball" was also a fave song of my Dad's. I always felt sorry for the person but was too young to grasp why exactly the singe was stuck with it. Figured it was about lack of money.

Or maybe a real New Yorker would have channeled the voice of DeNiro, "You lookin' at me??!!!!!" or a MYOB message with the f-bomb enclosed? I just froze like the deer in headlights! Too ladylike.

best, libby
L, delighted to see you again! Thanks for indulging my stream of consciousness above. Wired on sleeplessness and one more hit of caffeine I was.

I love this:

"My sister is famous for telling people I will talk to a fencepost."

A satisfying way to be. Most people don't disappoint! Amazing how well received some unconditional good will is, especially with some people who can light up suddenly with energy which re-fuels our own.

best, libby
xxx
jlsathre, thanks for the visit and validation! I think New York is the truly universal city we actual residents must learn to share. With Seinfeld and L&O (which truly captures NYC slice of lifeness and essence -- I mean, subtracting the relentless violence) and other tv shows, people spend a lot of time here via the magic box. When I first moved here I was far more mobile. Nowadays I explore NYC more often in the box than IRL. Time to get out and about more. I am missing a lot of stimulating culture! Again, glad I am writing about this. Maybe will motivate me. best, libby
libby- that is a classic. I am prone to telling my voices to shut up, too, but not usually in a theater. New Yorkers have earned their reputation for sang froid.
Libby

Reading one of your posts always causes so many resonances in my memory that I find myself starting multiple Posts in response- unfortunately I don't have the time to follow through.

I am reminded that my basic culture in growing up was “Lord of the Flies” I had 4 younger brothers and my father became scoutmaster to a rural scout troop when I was 6, and kept it for 20 years. Hence, I was a Boy Scout for 20 years. What that meant in practical terms was that I grew up in charge of the safety and conduct of entire tribes of small boys, often naked or near naked, and utterly savage. I retired at 18 when I went to college. Part of the college experience was remarkably the same. I made the Ohio State Wrestling team, not because I could wrestle ( our high school didn't have a formal wrestling team) but because I'd been doing Judo since the age of 6 with my fathers scout troop and later a Dojo at our local (30 miles away) YMCA. What that meant in dealing with the other wrestlers was that as long as we were wrestling and playing by the rules, most of them could beat me. If we got off into “not Wrestling” I usually put them into a position where they either shut up or suffered bone breakage. ( Wrestlers score points, Judokas break bones- which causes the immediate forfeiture of a wrestling match) I challenge anyone to find a ruder, cruder, more enthusiastically annoying person than a collegiate wrestler ( That doesn't include Marines, we're talking about among actual humans here- not rampaging romp um stomp em Devil Dogs- ( God Love Them and Semper Fi :-) ) All that to say that I am all too familiar with the phenomenon of some testosterone charged idiot “Waving his Dick in my face” ( as the Marines call it)

I mention that, because, Ive been to New York City twice and have never felt any urge whatsoever to return. I love the New Yorkers I meet elsewhere, but I wouldn't even want to visit the city on an expenses paid tour. . I hate cities, for a start. I'm one of those people that when I see the smoke from someone else's fire, the neighborhood has become too crowded. Not possible these days to do much but put up with it, but I try to avoid the worst population densities. People who actually live in New York, and as Singles, deserve credit for a lot of, for want of a better term, “Balls”. I Love the Image of you and your single life there, and the courage you exhibit just going about your daily life, and I envy you your morning strolls and the coffee and your warmly welcoming friends and your not so welcoming and arrogant co-residents who seem to have perfected and have a huge appreciation for the art of “Waving your dick in someone's face” ( Even the GIRLS!!)

I love to read anecdotes of New York and marvel at the people who live there, and the way they handle the overgrown adolescent boys of both sexes that seem to be everywhere, especially in “Public Service”

Me?, I've gotten old and peaceful. I don't hurt anyone anymore unless they absolutely insist. It seems to me that there are too many occasions when New Yorkers are subjected to utterly outrageous behavior not just by their co-residents, but by their politicians and public workers. I laugh at the ingenuity and humor of the way you and your fellow New Yorkers handle these situations, but I'm not sure how long I could laugh at it in person, without taking it as someone insisting on being hurt. Chacon a son gout, and YOU ROCK!
Libby

PS – I'm keeping up Herr Rudolphus der Rude's blog while he is away:

http://open.salon.com/blog/token/2012/07/11/return_to_the_front


Also, here's your Parable of Pony:

http://open.salon.com/blog/token/2012/07/08/the_parable_of_pony

Rumor has it that HrdR will maintain his blog at Oursalon,ning.com

Bob
That's what I love about living in a small "city" like New Plymouth (pop 70,000) . People you pass on the street - even gang members - always say hello to you. It's a new experience, as I have always lived in big cities.
phyllis, thanks for returning. You got me thinking about a lot of NYC anecdotes. maybe i'll pull some of them together! :-) best, libby
Token! :-)

Your tale of survival growing up is entertaining but could not have been easy, my friend! Wow. Though sounds like you managed to hold your own! Lord of the Flies really alarmed me upon reading I remember. Your use of it makes me laugh but also makes me nod in sympathy!

Don't be so hard on NYC! Hah! Though I appreciate where you are coming from but I have asked people in rural areas and even suburbia, "Gee, what do you guys do for stress out here?"

I once made a meditation tape for a friend out of state. I had two tape recorders next to each other and played one into the other. I sent the tape to my friend. My friend responded by saying that she plays it for her friends and they all have a good laugh. I was confused. Apparently on the tape I recorded not only the lovely meditation but all the new york background sounds with an open window on the street. The trucks backfiring, the motorcycles roaring by. the sirens. the road rage emanating up. the noisy playground across the street. (that noise never keeps me awake when I work nights and sleep during the day. it is like a lullaby the kids screaming. post-teaching I don;t have to control any of them! I know you can relate!) Anyway, my friend thought the tape was a JOKE. I confessed I had no idea all that noise had gotten in there. Hah!

I don't think it is terribly brave of me, except for a couple exceptions over the years. But mostly it has been quite entertaining and stimulating. I originally came to try my hand at acting having burned out at teaching, but I kept on staying. Professional acting was a tough nut to crack and I don't think I had the hunger or confidence enough but good to find that out about oneself. What I really think I came to NYC for was the 12 step nation. It was so intense when I joined and going to different kinds of 12 step meetings was like doing graduate work on one's psychological recovery. I am grateful for that education with so many different people sharing their experiences, strength and hope with me. My writing is often peppered with 12-step speak but more and more of the general public has picked it up as well. talking the talk and walking the walk for example. didn't know i would apply that education to our government dysfunction as passionately as I did to my family's!

Also, I was often the queen of continuing ed courses, for writers or for artists especially when I could afford them. For actors the first decade. I also did volunteer work with kids since i missed the teaching. It has been an interesting journey.

when I saw the movie the Devil Wears Prada it really reminded me of my shock and awe at the corporate culture when I joined up on the lower rungs there and the caste system where power and control created such a double standard and how abused one could be by egomaniacal so-called professionals! maybe I needed that experience for my own unfinished business with the past. learning to assert by being in plenty of occasions to need it. Upholding one's dignity without being called out as insubordinate and fired.

Thanks for commenting, my friend. I enjoy your sharings!!

best, libby xxx
[r] Stuart, a whole different situation having such recognition by an entire community. I like the anonymity of NY at times, but also miss out I know on what you now have. best, libby
I just rated your comment, Stuart. I have got to get some sleep! best, libby
Excellent, libbyliberal...I enjoyed the coffee and the people-watching with you today...you have a way with words or as my mother once told me after reading one of my stories. "You have a nice vocabulary."
My great grandfather was an NYC postman, but when I was young enough to have known him I never asked him about his work.

New York is a far more social place with strangers than people have been led to believe. I moved away from the NY metro area (I was a suburban kid - NY though, not Jersey) to near DC in high school and one of the first thing that struck me was that in the DC area people didn't strike up conversations with each other in movie lines. In New York, it would have almost been rude not to.
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