city conversations

If someone were to ask me, “What are the things that make you most happy?” my answer would be easy.  Family and friends would be number one.  And living in New York City would be number two.  My worst nightmare (that I have often), and I am not making this up, is that I‘ve moved.  I think deep down I have this fear that nothing good lasts.

The reasons I love this city are innumerable. I love the energy here.  Its importance to the world.  Its neighborhoods.  Its liberalism.  Its culture. Its climate.  Its geography. Its restaurants.  Its color.  And of course, its people.

Today, for example, is an uneventful day.  But the random encounters I have throughout it make  it more memorable than it deserves to be.

First I meet Luis, an Apple genius and gem.   I’m not sure what his IQ is for deserving his genius status, but it’s off the charts for likeability and helpfulness. My iPhone battery is draining again, and he discovers some problem with a logjam of software, or something like that.  The fix is a total reinstall, which I’m not sure I want to do.  But he offers to help in every way possible.  He even discovers I can upgrade, and looks up the nearest ATT store to see if I can get a better deal on the iPhone 5S than Apple can offer.

Next appointment is at my dermatologist’s.  My semi-annual body check shows that all is good. Through the years, I’ve gotten to know my doctor well, despite seeing her only two or three times a year.  If she weren’t my doctor she’d be a good friend.  Our conversations always evolve to our kids — and not the aren’t they wonderful kind, but a true sharing of common kid challenges.

Even the hipsters behind the Stumptown coffee counter are as nice as they are cool. 

Then there’s this older woman sitting next to me on the bus. Her eyes smile in agreement at my obvious irritation at the guy sitting behind me chatting non-stop on his phone, in my ear.  We end up talking about neighborhood restaurants.

And finally, there’s the 28-year old woman at ATT, who is leaving work tomorrow at 9pm to go home to bake 11 pies.  She is one of 18 siblings (all from the same parents, 3 girls and 15 boys).  We sidetrack from our conversation about phones while she is waiting for her computer to warm up.  But this is on the phone and she is from Louisiana.

New York certainly does not have a lock on friendly, interesting people.  They are just so easy to find here.