Today I had what could be considered a quintessentially New York moment. It pains me to use that phrase, as I mostly associate it with girls in my high school who saw Rent 500 times and thought their lives were "just like" Sex and the City--excepting of course the relationships, setting, daily habits, general intelligence of surrounding people and income levels--but besides that, they were sooo Carrie. Be that as it may, I can think of no way to describe it, and it's 1:30 in the morning and I have no desire to ponder it further.
It's rather well accepted, even by those that don't live here, that New Yorkers are surly and self-centered. I don't think it's true, but I must plead guilty to one count of New Yorkdom in that I generally don't want to make small talk with someone I am buying a paper or V8 Splash from. My main concern here is speed, as I am a busy man with an expensive datebook. Sometimes I don't even stop--pick up the Times and drop a dollar bill in one elegant, hurried motion. But today I was heading back downtown after meeting a friend for dinner on the Upper East side. Subway stations tend to reflect their neighborhood, so this one was a bit nicer, and had multiple newsstands. As it was late, and trains are about as frequent as good Fergie songs, I was having a bit of a browse. None of the magazines really caught my fancy, but subway stations are about as hot as a frat party at Florida State, so I bought a Diet Coke from the laughably small freezer. I was listening to my iPod, as I almost always am when I walk anywhere, so I just sort of lifted the can to his eye line and looked at the shopkeeper. He met my gaze, and rather than say anything, just held up his index finger, so as to indicate that it was $1. I paid, and walked down the platform.
It was a wordless commercial transaction, but as the shopkeeper was Indian, it is conceivable that we could have conducted it in English or Hindi (I would guess). Instead, we chose the unofficial language of New York--a dialect of silent efficiency tinged with quiet appreciation. I've become quite fluent in it, and when it's working, it's fantastic.
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i have to say this kind of exchange is something i really miss about home. you can't really get by without SONE sort of small talk when living in a small town, esp. in a foreign country even if you're just buying a magazine or bottle of water. or maybe that's just korea? but i can't make it through the day without having to give a 5 min. speech about how i am-korean-yet-can't-speak-korean-because-i-am-an-english-teacher-whose-parents-raised-her-in-an-english-only-household, which gets exhausting when i just want to buy my water and get out of there. maybe they know having to give this speech gets exhausting after awhile, because locals in my town usually give me some kind of flagrant compliment as compensation afterwards, i.e. "wow, your korean is good for a foreigner" or "you are very pretty so it is OK that your korean accent sucks, people will like you anyway" (the latter compliment was given to me courtesy of my supermarket check-out girl).
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