New York City Storyteller

You are on the number one train. You are going downtown to South Ferry, the tip of Manhattan Island. You are with three adults and one teenager from Oxford, Mississippi — Billy Bob, Nellie Sue, Kate and her sixteen year old daughter Lacy.

You’re going to talk about the history of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Governor’s Island, Staten Island, the waterfront, the bridges, and when Brooklyn was a separate city.

You are a tour guide in New York.
You work for yourself, mindful this does not preclude staff problems.

You say aloud as you sit in the subway car, “I hope this is one of the first five cars. We’re going to an old station. It has room only for five cars.”

A stranger to your left responds, “Yup. You’re okay.”

You turn. You smile.
“Thank you. That’s an advantages of speaking loud. Some one hears you. Someone helps you. ”

“No problem ” he says.

“I should pay more attention. I’m a tour guide.”

Lacy asks, “What are we doing after?”

You look at her.
You remember her mother saying, “No history. Lacy just likes to shop.”

You say, “We’re going to visit my contact near Wall Street, buy some marijuana and resell it on Broadway. ”

Lacy’s eyes widen.

You hear, “Be careful what you say. Someone might hear you.”

It’s the stranger talking.
You tell him you’re kidding.
He tells you someone might not think so.
You ask him where he’s going.
He tells you he’s going home after a twelve hour shift.
You ask him if he’s a cook.
He says he works for the city.
You ask him if he’s a marshall.
He says he works for the city.
You ask him if he’s a prison guard.
He says he works for the city.

Nellie Sue says “Be curious. It keeps you young. But he’s still polite if he does not want to answer.”

“That not very New York like, ” you say.
“We ask each other questions all the time.
We answer each other’s questions all the time.
We have no sense of privacy.
We have no space.”

The stranger smiles.
He cups his hand over his mouth, “I’m a cop.”

I say, “Stay safe.”

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 18th, 2008 at 3:41 pm and is filed under New York Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.