685. Are You A Real New Yorker?


685. It was raining cats and dogs. Nolan was sitting on the Q train, headed to Times Square. There were puddles all over the subway car floor. Nolan was tapping away on his smart phone. The train stopped at Kings Highway. He kept tapping away. Someone said, "Excuse me?" He looked up. An old lady was looking at him expectantly. Her eyebrows were raised. He went back to his phone. He figured that she expected him to rise and offer her his seat. But he wasn't going to do that. Not a chance. He wasn't some tourist; he was a New Yorker—a real New Yorker. Real New Yorkers don't offer their seats to anyone. After half an hour, the train stopped at Canal Street. The old lady got off, but first she shook her wet umbrella all over Nolan and his smart phone. She, too, was a real New Yorker. 2.2

    MENU    

685. Copyright © Mike Carlson. All rights reserved. www.eslyes.com