The First Supper

October 14, 2010 § Leave a comment

The New New Yorker

by Courtney Hilden

The first thing that struck me as I walked through Times Square was how dirty the street was.  I had heard all sorts of complaints about how cleaned up Times Square had become; “Disney-ified” I heard someone once called it.  Apparently not even Disney can clean streets like these.

As we walked, a man asked me if I wanted a bag.  On the ground, on the same part of the street where trash was usually laid out, was a dirty blanket covered with knockoffs.  I looked a little closer.  The Prada bags were particularly impressive, though the Channel and Yves Saint Laurent weren’t bad either.  My sister would like these, I thought.  And then my eyes slid to that blanket.  It was white, and while not disgusting, there were still dirt smudged into it in odd places.  I thought about where this man was from, I imagined Senegal or Burkina Faso, and how he now was selling bags on the streets of Times Square just to live in some apartment that would qualify as a fire hazard.

If this is what it means to be Disney-ified, I am not sure this is so great.  Or that the original, rougher version of Times Square is all so missable.

I didn’t mention this to the person I was with, and we went to dinner.

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