Thursday, March 25, 2010

36 Hours in New York: A Subway Grope and Some Flaming Cheese

Hello from the Boltbus! I was up in New York on some freelance writing business for the past day and a half and managed to fit in after-hours visits with Mancini and Caitlin.

I got groped on the subway while I was there. It was gross. I thought someone's purse was wedged against me, and then as the #2 stopped at 72nd street I realized it was a hand--a cupped, stroking hand. I jumped and turned around just in time to see the doors open and the groper--a relatively professional-looking guy in a Burberry coat and premium denim--stop on the edge of the platform and turn around and watch me neutrally as the doors closed.

Subway gropes are a relatively common problem in NYC--I would say 80% of my female friends have endured one--but that was the first time it'd happened to me. When I lived up there, I always wondered what I'd do if it did. When I read a magazine article about a woman who grabbed a groper's hand, thrust it up, and said "who does this belong to??", I thought yeah. That's me.

But it wasn't. I froze. I barely even mustered a dirty look while he stared at me from the platform. Then I got off at the next stop and furiously went through all the great reactions I could have had. Scenarios ranged from the obvious (SMACK!) to the esoteric ("Excuse me? Are we in the Bauhaus Village? Because I think I just felt Walter GROPE-i-us!"). Then I began to feel like George Costanza, thinking all day about the line he should have shouted in that movie theater, and then I felt even dirtier for thinking that because George actually wants to go back into the theater so he can shout "that's gotta hurt" and what did that make me if I was fantasizing about going back and...

Oh, I'll get over it. Some creep touched my butt. It happens. It was just one more eye-opening experience in 36 hours of them. Caitlin told me that I've been mispronouncing "Bon Iver" this whole time. Was I literally the last person on Earth saying "bahn EYEver" instead of "bone eeVER"? I also discovered that in two years of dating a Greek American in my late teens, I managed to miss a delicious dish called Saganaki, which is flambeed cheese that they light on fire in front of you, terrifying fellow diners to your limitless glee. (Get it at Uncle Nick's Ouzaria if you can.) I ate a lot of cheese. I went to Dylan's candy bar and ate jelly beans. And I found out that Barnes and Noble now has free WiFi in all its stores, and I ended up spending about 10 hours there.

Net positive.


3 comments:

  1. When I was in high school we used to go to Alexis greek restaurant just for the Saganaki - one of my best memories is eating Saganiki on a snowy day after Christmas shopping...it's SO good, isn't it?!

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  2. First of all, HOW did you not manage to consume saganaki at Symposium? (The restaurant, not the Philo tradition.)

    Secondly, http://hollabacknyc.blogspot.com/ is pretty great for ex-post-facto gropery tales. Sorry that jerk was a jerk.

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  3. Why is no one commenting on this butt-grabbing tickler? WTF is he thinking?!! I would be traumatized. That's disgusting. I wish I was your body guard and could have pulled out my glock. ;)

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