Monday, December 22, 2008

The Big Hassle by Daniel Michael

In NYC, this type of Street "Conversation" is quite common:
A woman walking right in front of me along 4th Ave. toward 14th street. Yelling across 14th street at someone I couldn't see.

Woman: (Yelling) What's up, punk?! What's up, punk?!  What's up, punk?! (Then speaking softly, almost to herself) Yeah, you old punk ass.


I was in a bad mood today, because being a poor, struggling artist is not that romantic when you are actually doing it. I assume it’s something that is more fun to look back on. Like losing one’s virginity, touring Russia on a Vespa or the time I went to a gay bar dressed as a woman in order to pick up lesbians. (BAD idea.)  So as I walked out of the McDonalds in Union Square with a $1 Triple Cheeseburger in my hand, this dude on a bike was coming at me the wrong way down a one-lane, one-way street. He made this "get-out-of-the-way" whistle, and when he got next to me, I said half under my breath, "Fuck off."

He turned and became really angry and he said, "You go fuck yourself, bitch!!!" So he one-up'd me on the profanity. People up here tend to equate being tough with being a complete asshole. (They also like to talk about what college they went to. I think it’s sad when a fifty year old man is still talking about his undergraduate days at Yale.) I just walked on like the cyclist wasn't there, because I don’t have time for the peons. Then he just rode off. Right back to the psychiatric ward. And I took a stroll with my Triple Cheeseburger around the organic vegan farmers market. In your face, health freaks!

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