Anyway.
So I was at the big Halloween store on Broadway and 8th St. yesterday. The one that's a total fucking madhouse, like Toys R Us on Christmas Eve, the one with the checkout line that stretches around the block. Madness! M. and I are dressing up as Thing One and Thing Two tonight. Should have been easy enough. We already have the red onesies, buttflap and all. I found them at the Salvation Army one inspired day last winter. All I wanted to do yesterday was buy a couple of blue wigs and some white face paint. So after gently fighting the crowds to find these products, I get in the check out line and wait. And wait. And wait. After what may well have been an hour I get to the cashier and try (idiotically?) to pay for my purchase with a bank card, because that's all I have on me. But homeboy wants picture ID. I offer to use the bank card as a debit card. I offer him, as proof of ID, a checkbook with my name on it AND a piece of mail with my name on it. I have multiple proofs of ID, but what do you want? I have no driver's license because I CAN'T DRIVE. Homeboy won't budge though. I'm wheedling with him for a minute, and then the guy behind me in line offers to pay for my items. Even though they cost $41! He says, "Yeah, it would be such a bummer to wait in that line for so long and not be able to get your costume." So anyway, he pays, I am amazed, flabbergasted, stunned, grateful. I give him my email address and offer to do any bicycle repair work he needs. And I am telling you this story to let you know that there are nice people out there! In New York City! In seasonal retail hell! So go out there and do something nice for a stranger, would you?
1 comment:
Having had the opportunity to celebrate Halloween (and hating the dressing up and knocking on people's doors for candy my mother rarely let us eat), I admire your costume creativity and your ability to meet those few kind New Yorkers. Happy trick or treating!
Post a Comment