One of the joys of living in New York City is watching people play out their little dramas in public. I consider it a form of free theatre which I would be deprived of were I to fulfill my now-tired empty threat of moving to a shack in Vermont where I could perform my plays for the cows.
Yesterday I was crossing 11th Street and coming toward me was a very young, petite and tastefully blonde new mother pushing her fashionable-yet-sturdy cherry-red stroller. She was also pushing her baby inside the stroller, but the stroller really took center stage.
Suddenly, I heard a loud raspy voice which sounded very similar to that of Harriet Christian (Hillary supporter of recent Youtube fame) blurt out: "Watch where you're going, you fucking bitch! You think you own the street? I'm a person too!"
I saw immediately that the line had been delivered by a woman of about 70 years and maybe 200 pounds who had apparently just been nicked by the stroller. I suddenly felt a rush of solidarity with this woman, who I will call Estelle. I called her Estelle. In my mind, of course. Not out loud. For I am a bit more reserved than she.
I really dug her letting it all hang out like that. Not that I have anything against cute perky perfect blonde power moms, really. I mean, I think everyone has a right to breathe our air and drink our water. I really do. But living in this city as it adapts to the new extremes of wealth popping up in virtually every corner, one can't help but empathize with Estelle, who in one instant articulated what many of us feel but few would ever dare say. We resent the sanitized new face of Manhattan.
And Estelle was able to capture that resentment in an instant.
Thanks, Estelle. I hope it made you feel a little better.
I know it did me. Does that make me a bad person?
