Most days, I meet a few random New Yorkers, whether on the subway, at a coffee shop, at a food stand, or as building concierge. There are people everywhere, and I greatly enjoy saying hello. Here are a few people I met last week:
Shortly after midnight on a weeknight , waiting in the 59th St/Lex Ave subway station, a student named Lindale asked me if he was on the correct platform. He was reading a book about Brooker T. Washington to write a paper on him for one of his classes at Bronx Community College, where he is studying pre-med and wants to become a doctor. Most of his family is in Jamaica, where he grew up. He was waiting for the train to go to his job at a large retail store where he helps with unloading overnight deliveries. On weekends, he caddies at a golf course. He doesn't sleep much, but he has an incredible work ethic and a positive attitude. Stereotypes about today's youth are not always true.
At a fundraising event for children with mental disabilities, I met three young gals who are classmates in culinary school, all of whom are fairly boy-crazy. While I sat in the kitchen with them, they took some selfies and talked about all the hot kitchen boys, hot stockroom boys, hot boys they snapchat, hot boys they date, and hot boys they want to meet. Sometimes stereotypes are true.
In the square just outside my building, there's an Autumn outdoor food court. The pizza stand has its own stone pizza oven. There's a guy who stands there and bakes pizzas all day long. He works every day of the week, during these months, and helps to run the business. I say hello when I walk by. He's about 30, has a short beard and long unruly hair, which he usually ties up for work. One day, using an example to make some point, I referenced that people don't consume poison knowingly. He promptly contradicted me and said it's not true, because he takes acid and loves it. I stand corrected.
Everyone has a story. You'll never know what you'll get when you start a conversation, but you'll likely find something really interesting.
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