The Shop

It’s procrastination ville here in New York. I had my last class of this first week this morning ( Saturday) at 9am and we just got bombarded with assignments for over the weekend. Man, don’t they know we have tourist lives to lead?

My daily route on the subway takes me to Times Square- 42nd Street to change, but I have yet to come up for air and actually look around Times Square.

I do seem to manage to eat my way around New York.  Lunch, dinnertime or just a cup of coffee – I like to try new things ( though I have to admit that Starbucks has been frequented.) and to my delight places don’t really close here so one can still order a full meal come midnight.

After the lingering outside a full cafe fiasco the other day, I’ve been searching for eateries around the school, that fit a medium-size group of people and the student budget. ( Balthazar’s a block away but unsuitable, alas.) Usually I google reviews (life’s too short.) and today the cafe around the corner was really busy but the food was shite. The company was luckily better though and I guess you cannot win them all. The next one, a veggie cafe suggested by a friend, is already lined up for lunch next week.

Of course now I start to worry a little about expanding waistlines and I was wondering whether I should go for a run tomorrow ( in Central Park!) before I go for brunch. ( Did I tell you I’m going for brunch? )

This train of thought did not stop me tonight when I popped out to get some food and juice. The nearest store is some kind of organic market shop of which there are a few here – probably catering to the needs of their clientele. Still I picked up some snacks to look at the calorie content, briefly contemplated a 12-doughnut family pack for my family of one, before picking up the resealable chocolate chip cookies, when I overheard a conversation between a mother and teenage daughter.

” Would you like to try the organic acai berry granola?” No answer. ” It seems nice.” mother tried again. The daughter shook her head: ” I just want this.” and she picked up a little pot of 0% fat natural yoghurt. Now her mother sighed.”Look I’m tired. This doesn’t have to be scary.” The daughter shook her head: ” I just want this.” I looked at her: she could not have been older than 13, eyes completely terrified in her gaunt face that already showing the signs of the demons in her head. They walked to the till. Mother tried again “You have to try things.” The daughter could not explain herself, the miserable tears said it all.

My heart ached with muscle memory as I put my snapea crisps and  chocolate cookies by the till, it counted my blessings and whispered a little prayer for one unknown little girl.

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