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On the way to the challah land

October 5, 2005 By pia

To get to Long Island from the Upper West Side, I take a subway and the Long Island Railroad. Usually during the week the subway ride is quick and non memorable. Normally I wouldn’t have gotten on the subway at 5PM on a weekday; my life is planned to avoid subway rush hours. Life’s much more pleasant that way. For a New Yorker I have an easy life and I know and appreciate that.

I would love amenities; amenities you think are neccessities: space for a dishwasher, washer dryer, space itself, and a deck or some land. I really want a triplex townhouse condo on the beach in Santa Monica, but I will settle for the above. And I live in a “big deal” building–both the Times and New York Magazine called us that. My apartment faces due East and North. I get incredible light. From the bedroom I can see eight blocks north, and the courtyard. From my living room I see the top of brownstones to the large building on the next Avenue, across the Avenue to an almost impressionistic view of Broadway.

Mostly I see the sky, and that is worth everything to me. It brings the outside in and makes me feel that I’m not living in a cramped city. Of course I would have preferred the river view, but I was being practical eight years ago last Saturday when I closed on this apartment. My apartment had been gut renovated in the early 90’s, has a granite entry hall/kitchenette and huge marble master bath. I knew people who paid more money for apartments that weren’t in triple mint condition or in the perfect location. Across from the river and a park, and twoto three blocks from everything. From tranquility to action in two minutes; it’s a New Yorker’s wet dream.

Broadway and 72nd Street wasn’t crowded at five today; nor was the subway. I was wearing a denim pencil skirt, white linen shirt, denim jacket, black fishnet stockings in a really funky weave and gray Merrel suede loafers, with my rimless sunglasses that are out of style on the West Coast–I have now vintage Gucci for when I feel like looking sophisiticated; and I don’t feel that way often.

The express came almost immediately and I sat down. Soon, very soon, I noticed that I was the only absolutely has to be Caucasion in the car. It’s happened before and has never made me feel uncmfortable.

Two Black men in cheap but okay suits were sitting across from me. They were talking loudly to a man, one subway door away from my seat. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t sat next to them. They were instant headache loud.

“White people. They think all we want is white people food. Ham and cheese.”

Okay I had no idea what they were talking about.

“Mr. Burns.” Stop to belly laugh. I had the feeling that they had named somebody for Homer Simpson’s Mr. Burns.

“Cookies and milk. Milk and cookies….” Repeated about six times.

“They think Black people want…” Gasp for air as they laughed.

“Milk and cookies.” More laughter. Okay they sounded stoned. Really didn’t care but wish I had a newspaper or anything to bury my face in and pretend to read.

They looked at me and the Black woman next to me who was dressed in a black silk suit. She was pretending to read as her face contorted into the paper.

“West coast; east coast.” More from the gut laughter. As they pointed to the subway map after pointing to the woman and me, I think that they meant I looked Upper West Side and she looked Upper East Side as we did.

They continued talking about about stupid White people and pointed to my Merrel loafers.
“White people’s shoes.” As I have the same loafers in blue and red, plus Merrel’s black and brown leather loafers, I looked down to see if I had accidentally put a blue one on. I have never worn shoes from two different pairs but there’s always a first time.

Talked some more. “Yabba dabba do.” In a weird, not admiring the original but making fun of it as white person’s thing. Stopped to belly laugh.

The train finally reached Penn Station at 34th Street; as it was an express the only other stop was at 42nd Street; between those two stops I learnedd that they were transferring at Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn to the R or the M.

I got up. More than anything in the world I wanted to walk up to them and say:

“Look hate white people; hate me. I don’t care; but next time you say anything about Fred Flinstone or even say ‘yabba dabba do,’ you die.”

But I didn’t even look back at them as I walked out of the train.

*****************************************

While I wanted to end with that line I feel obligated to say that this was a very unusual experience; I wouldn’t be writing about it if it weren’t. They were rude; people of all races can be. When I told this story to my sister, brother in law and niece she asked why people hate Blacks as we’re all made of the same DNA and genes. She’s a Milenium Kid. They amaze me with their total lack of prejudice, judgement, and their incredible–I would say tolerance, but that really means they’re just tolerating . I’m convinced that these kids will change the world.

The only parts I took personally were the characterization of my shoes as “white peoples shoes.” I like to feel cooler than that, and anybody of any race will suffer if they make fun of Fred Flinstone. When I was a child, my father forced the whole family to watch it, and I grew rather attached to Fred, Wilma, Barney, Betty, Pebbles and Bam Bam. Damn I didn’t even have to think to come up with their names.

Filed Under: New York Stories Tagged With: New York Stories

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Going on with Zachary »

Comments

  1. JC says

    October 5, 2005 at 6:36 pm

    I am sorry that happened to you. Yes, they were rude! As far as the shoes thing, if it isn’t a Nike sneaker, I doubt I would recognize it. I had a niece that looked like pebbles as a baby. I posted her half grown pic in my blog not too long ago….and isn’t it yabba dabba dooo?

  2. Bone says

    October 5, 2005 at 7:25 pm

    Had you said that, that would have been priceless!

    I see the same thing in kids today. Good observation.

  3. dan says

    October 5, 2005 at 8:13 pm

    Betty Rubble is where it’s at, and that’s the truth.

  4. EnergyPaws says

    October 5, 2005 at 9:23 pm

    I do find it amazing that things like this still happen, but I’m not surprised.

    I used to date a black/hispanic man (who was judged by many of his own family because he was trying to be “white”) and I remember sitting on his porch while the upstairs neighbor taught her daughter to yell WHITE GIRL at me. (I was the only white girl around.)

  5. Gurustu says

    October 5, 2005 at 9:47 pm

    Prejudice has no color, but knows them all.

    And don’t forget Dino… Dino rocks!

  6. bonnie says

    October 5, 2005 at 10:41 pm

    so within the space of, what, a week you’ve gone from being “such an n-word” to being the temporary poster child for white squareness?

    Is that sad or funny? Whichever, how bizarre.

  7. EKENYERENGOZI MICHAEL CHIMA says

    October 6, 2005 at 12:59 am

    Only uneducated blacks would talk like that.

    They must be semi-literates.

    Sorry, for the embarrassment.

    Their inferiority complex stuck out like sores on their comic faces.

  8. fruey (Let's Have It) says

    October 6, 2005 at 1:07 am

    The Flinstones rock. I totally love that show.

    Sometimes I don’t have time to read your writing, but when I do take the time I feel that I’ve always accomplished something. It’s interesting, and has a style which is all your own. Just a story in a subway, but told in a good way.

  9. ken grandlund says

    October 6, 2005 at 1:12 am

    Sounds as if these folks were from the same planet as the infamous Green Gazoo (you remember him? he was brought in to the Flintstones and quickly led to their own “jump the shark” situation.

  10. NuggetMaven says

    October 6, 2005 at 4:09 am

    Great story! I still find it crazy that in NYC of all places we can still encounter that type of racist-rudeness. I can see that in the ‘burbs, but NYC? Talk about a melting pot!

    I can only imagine how I would have reacted, or what their responses to me would have been. If they were doing the “west coast, east coast” with you, I can only imagine the drivel they’d drum up for a white fat chick from Westchester.

    Hope your “challah-days” are lovely!

  11. Jill says

    October 6, 2005 at 6:28 am

    i found via blog explosion – i will be back for more.. thanks for the laugh.. ps. i have merrill’s too.

  12. Belinda says

    October 6, 2005 at 6:56 am

    Of COURSE your Merrells are cool. Because if they weren’t, then, well…mine wouldn’t be, either, would they? And that won’t do at all!

  13. jane says

    October 6, 2005 at 7:48 am

    I would’ve been mad over more than the Flinstones! Racism of any type is WRONG.

    I loved pebbles & bambam. When my son was 2, he was bambam for halloween & looked so cute!

  14. jane says

    October 6, 2005 at 7:48 am

    I would’ve been mad over more than the Flinstones! Racism of any type is WRONG.

    I loved pebbles & bambam. When my son was 2, he was bambam for halloween & looked so cute!

  15. julia says

    October 7, 2005 at 3:02 am

    one word. shitty.

    (and now many more words. start rant here:)

    it’s never cool being reduced to some random aspect of your identity – whether it’s your whiteness, blackness, girlness, queerness (you know what i mean:) it’s hard when you’ve got folks totally ganging up and basically disempowering someone else who is ‘different’. it takes some pretty weak self esteam to necessitate this type of cowardly action.

    and i know for me, being the white girl that i am, it doesn’t happen as much as it does to other folks. i mean, i’ve had it happen where i’ve been targeted because i’m a woman, but rarely have i been targeted because i’m white. and when i have, it’s been such a strange feeling because it’s not the norm. i’m used to dealing with sexism, i’ve grown up with it. dealing with an attack based on my race is rare. in some ways i find it easier to deal with the sexism because i’m so used to it. but in someways the random attacks based on being whitey are easier because i don’t feel like a) they are continuous or b) they are backed by social structures and institutions. sometimes the sexism cracks me because it’s so overwhelming.

    i just wish sometimes we could call a time out, tap people on the shoulder, drag out some memory of a time someone pulled this on them and make them see how it’s the same crap. these stupid power dynamics run along so many different lines – (ie, the whole race/class/gender/etc lines) i doubt they would have acted the same if you were a man. did these men really feel like they were gaining something because they could go after a woman?

    arrgh. sorry. i’ve gotten all frustrated trying to respond. and to think, i thought i had something constructive to say.

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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