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.