I’m sitting in the laundromat (yes, it’s my 3rd time in a laundromat, ever) two blocks away from my apartment and there are 10 minutes left on my dryer. Of course, I meant to start writing this post the minute I put my clothes in the washing machine but I was caught up in anxiety over finally having this blog out there. In public.
Most aspects of life in NYC are public, though. I’m realizing more and more how many strangers I encounter in NYC everyday. On the streets, in the parks, while taking mass transportation. I mean, it makes sense, right? Little island. Millions of people living on top of each other. Yet for the most part, New Yorkers commit to remaining strangers – even though they might pass the same exact people everyday on the way to work, or see the same people rolling by with their dirty laundry carts at the laundromat. A man just walked by me asking if I get wireless here, to whom I answered yes, I’m actually pirating some from an unprotected network. He laughed and walked off and that was the extent of our interaction. Now he’s singing “La Cucaracha” to his two little girls while folding laundry. I find it interesting – the glimpses we can get of people’s lives when we pay attention in public and stop feigning complete indifference and mysterious unconcern.
I wonder if his two little girls blog. At what age does a child born in 2008 start blogging, facebooking, digging and youtubing?