February 5, 2015

style stories #20: f@#% you and the art of mean

Two days ago it was freezing cold; frozen nipples cold so obviously I wasn't going to stand on the corner without a coat. So bundled up me (scarf  high, hat  low - they met in the middle of my face) was walking along the West Side, looking for a coffee shop with room to sit.  I was out of cigarettes (really, the worst).  Man emerges from building. Cue me.  

"Do you have a cigarette for me please?"

"Fuck you" he says while unwrapping the cellophane off a newly purchased pack of cigarettes; continues on his way.

I realize something miraculous has occured. 

" Thank you! The myth of the mean New Yorker isn't merely a myth. They exist!" ( I'd almost given up) 

I tip my hat to you anonymous Sir as I'm sure you would have remained steadfast in the face of frozen nipples too. Bravo. (But I still believe Vienna has the highest ratio of crabby people per capita. Case in point: you cross the street on red in NY, cars will  slow down and not honk, gesture, curse you out or try to kill you. You cross on red in Vienna, cars will speed up and definitely try to kill you.) 

#TBT from the late 60's, Susan Shaw poses for a photographer 

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