Old Men in NYC
Old men in New York are pretty bold. I guess they figure they have nothing to lose. I often have old men walk past me only to smile or say hello. They are for the most part harmless, but on certain occasions, they go above and beyond to get your attention. This was the case twice last weekend.
I am walking along the Upper West Side with my friend Ira on Saturday afternoon, yes, I am actually with a man when this old guy, probably 70 or so and about 4'6" tall walks past me and says, "Hi! What can I do for YOU?" It was so amusing that I turned to look as we continued walking. He had stopped to stare at me. I guess he was waiting to see if I would take him up on his offer. Perhaps I should have asked for a bank statement and health records. Might have been a good gig for June!
The next day, I get on the subway. Another old man, this one probably 70+ puts his hand over his heart and sort of bows toward me. I smiled and looked away, but he keeps trying to get my attention. He's mouthing all sorts of things I'm trying to ignore, mostly things like "you're beautiful" nothing lude or disgusting, but he's clearly a little off. I was WAY uptown headed home so I had a while on the train. Finally another lady gets on the train and starts to sit down next to him. He was sitting across from me. He tells her as she goes to sit down that she needs to offer that seat to the men who are standing. She did and we all had a good laugh.
She sets about reading her magazine and he starts asking her questions about the article. She decides he is more entertaining than what she is reading so she engages him in a little conversation. He is still trying to reel me into this conversation. Next thing I know he is telling her how much he loves the blonde sitting across from him on the train. "But she doesn't love me back," he says. I say, "Oh, you say that to all the girls." He looks all hurt and looks at the lady next to him who says, "He didn't say it to me!" Then he starts talking about how I must know how to have a good time because blondes have more fun. About that time we get to my stop, which happens to be his seat mate's stop as well. He bids us a final farewell and delcares his love for me again. She and I got off the train and had a good laugh. Her commment, "That was totally worth putting my magazine down."
What a character! You meet them in New York. No where else in America could you have that experience without being afraid for your safety. Here it's just a Sunday afternoon.
I am walking along the Upper West Side with my friend Ira on Saturday afternoon, yes, I am actually with a man when this old guy, probably 70 or so and about 4'6" tall walks past me and says, "Hi! What can I do for YOU?" It was so amusing that I turned to look as we continued walking. He had stopped to stare at me. I guess he was waiting to see if I would take him up on his offer. Perhaps I should have asked for a bank statement and health records. Might have been a good gig for June!
The next day, I get on the subway. Another old man, this one probably 70+ puts his hand over his heart and sort of bows toward me. I smiled and looked away, but he keeps trying to get my attention. He's mouthing all sorts of things I'm trying to ignore, mostly things like "you're beautiful" nothing lude or disgusting, but he's clearly a little off. I was WAY uptown headed home so I had a while on the train. Finally another lady gets on the train and starts to sit down next to him. He was sitting across from me. He tells her as she goes to sit down that she needs to offer that seat to the men who are standing. She did and we all had a good laugh.
She sets about reading her magazine and he starts asking her questions about the article. She decides he is more entertaining than what she is reading so she engages him in a little conversation. He is still trying to reel me into this conversation. Next thing I know he is telling her how much he loves the blonde sitting across from him on the train. "But she doesn't love me back," he says. I say, "Oh, you say that to all the girls." He looks all hurt and looks at the lady next to him who says, "He didn't say it to me!" Then he starts talking about how I must know how to have a good time because blondes have more fun. About that time we get to my stop, which happens to be his seat mate's stop as well. He bids us a final farewell and delcares his love for me again. She and I got off the train and had a good laugh. Her commment, "That was totally worth putting my magazine down."
What a character! You meet them in New York. No where else in America could you have that experience without being afraid for your safety. Here it's just a Sunday afternoon.
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