|My favorite pregnancy candy – taken by moi|
“Nubia, do you have any snacks? He has diabetes!” my way too concerned mother yelled at me as she entered Symphony Space theater in Manhattan. She was with an acquaintance of my father’s, we’ll call him Mr. Thrifty, and she was pointing at him frantically.
“What?” I asked. My husband Chris and I had been standing in the drafty lobby of the theater waiting for my mom to arrive with tickets to a memorial show (for the 10-year anniversary of a famous drummer’s death) during which my father was playing the Ashiko drum. There were no seats and my feet were already hurting, so I wasn’t in the best mood.
My mother pointed to Mr. Thrifty and repeated, “He needs to eat something.” Thrifty had a weird smirk on his face.
I only had a few snacks and I needed them because the show was from 6-8 PM if not longer. I pulled out my Sunsweet dried mangos and Thrifty took the bag to examine the contents.
“Your going to take snacks from a pregnant woman?!” asked my annoyed husband.
This was ridiculous. I replied, “Wait a second. There is a Walgreens right next door! Why doesn’t he just walk over there and get some food? I need my snacks!” I snatched my mangos back and stuffed them in my purse. What was wrong with this guy? Did he JUST get diabetes over night and not know how to deal with eating regularly? We’re in the culinary capital of the world–if you need a snack, you walk out the door and basically fall into food!
The crowd started to increase in the lobby and it was almost 6 PM. The show was running on “CP” time and I was tired of standing. Chris moved me to sit on stairs heading to the second-floor seats, and I was yelled at by one of the workers to move.
Then I noticed a tall man with a stack of black posters with white writing in one arm and a plastic bag in his hand. “Donation for poetry,” he said as he asked (forced) people to take one. “I’ll come back for the donation!” he yelled as he worked the lobby. His poor sales pitch continued as people were finally let inside to sit. I couldn’t believe the audacity of this man! Then, before the show started, a woman walked around with African jewelry for sale!
Am I crazy, or does it seem inappropriate to show off and sell your crafts at a dead man’s memorial service? Only in New York City…there’s always someone trying to save a dime while someone else tries to make a buck! And if you’re wondering, Mr. Thrifty did get his own snacks =)