I was walking on 44th and i noticed an older man - dapperly dressed with bow tie and matching pocket square complementing a pinstriped, gray suit - sitting cross legged on the sidewalk with what looked to be food stuffs displayed in front of him. As a approached I noticed that the array displayed on his makeshift table consisted of a half dozen peeled potatoes and a carrot. Amused and a bit intrigued, I mistakenly made eye contact with the spud salesman. Holding up a half naked potato in one hand and a glistening peeling device in the other, he pounced with the instinct of Willy Loman - "Do you want to make french fries?!" he probed with an urgency that caused me to slow my pace and actually ponder his inquiry. Did I? No, I did not. Had the question been "do you you want me to make french fries for you?" my answer may have been different - I just didn't have the time for the labor intensive nature of his offer.
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1 comment:
an ode to campus gas...now if only they supported the Jersey mentality of "full service
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