I’ll admit it. I like (some) street meat. So there, you know. Now whether you think I’m normal or nasty, here was a dialogue I heard between the female customer in front of me and the peddler last week:
“Oh, ok, thank you,” replies the vendor before he folds up the sheet and tucks it above his head in what reminds me of a visor in a car. “I can keep this one, right?”
“Sure, sure” said the girl. Then, she ordered her dirty water dog and went on her way…without paying.
Next is my turn and I ask what that was all about. Apparently she was informing the peddler of Columbia’s academic calendar. His days off coincide with the school’s.
Makes sense, but imagine that: A face-to-face exchange between two uncommon dealers dictates one man’s work schedule. Who knows when this relationship started? They clearly didn’t know one another besides this, but it seemed to suit both of them just fine. Huh. Only in NY I suppose.