Having had a day to sleep and wash my laundry I can look back over the trip we just took. The over arching realization about New York City was that it is a small town. The times that we interacted with people, face to face, were innumerable. 99.99% those interactions were beyond pleasant, in fact they stand out since in my own small town people are generally blasé and unfriendly. There are businesses that we frequent that know us by our first name and treat us well. But as this new Wyoming generation heads into the workforce, I rue what level of service will be aimed at customers.
Take the day that 9 of us were heading to Splash to have a cocktail and some eye candy. Mike had a glitch were his subway card didn’t read and all of us were on the interior gate for the subways; a woman from the freshly purged passengers saw this and swiped her card helping Mike through the security gate. Over and over our path was dotted with ‘small town’ friendly New Yorkers.
The streets are filled to the gills with humanity, stuffed and overflowing. Rush hour in Penn Station is an experience like none other, which Tony and I discovered the evening that we were invited out to Jess and Marc’s for dinner on Long Island. Pleasantries are exchanged here and there; a smile, a nod of the head and a motion to move in front were always close at hand. After our incredible meal at the boys house they drove us to a new station which was closer. I’ve never been so nervous in my life thinking we were going to miss the train back into the city. Jess and Marc showed no signs of rushing having the train schedule hard wired into their blood with the minutes ticking away. With a hug and a farewell they dropped us at the station as the train pulled in. Clockwork pure clockwork.
I can only imagine a world full of New Yorkers. I’m sure there are exceptions to this rule [we encountered a couple] but I’m here to say that the ‘small town’ is alive and well in New York City.