Those New York encounters..
New York is a unique city in many ways; its energy, its vibe, its mix of cultures and people sweep you off your feet before you know it. In New York, you get to meet (voluntarily or involuntarily) people so similar to you or utterly and totally different. Either way, all these encounters do count for something, and perhaps you learn a thing or two along the way. Let me tell you a few New York encounters from my first year as a New Yorker. Some of these I have experienced first hand, others I have been trusted with by very reliable sources, but none of these is an urban legend. Promise.
“The shop assistant who tells you your ass is fucking fabulous”
Imagine that moment when you are looking for a perfect pair of jeans and wait in the dressing room for your shop assistant to bring you piles and piles of jeans to try on. You tell him that your butt needs to look smoking hot in the jeans to which he replies, “Honey, I got you.” The shop assistant is sparkly and fun, and almost too honest when it comes to the fitting of the jeans, which is, in my (humble) opinion, fundamental. He wants you to look abso-fucking-fabulous when you walk out from the shop, and thus, takes his job very seriously.
You try jeans after jeans whilst he observes every inch of your butt and gazes you from the waist down. While working his magic eye, he makes different faces that can be a tad difficult to read at times. But then, he gives you the flirty eye, applauds a little and shouts out in excitement: “Your ass looks fucking phenomenal in those jeans! LOVE LOVE LOVE’EM!” and at that precise moment, you know you’ve found your true denim dream. And, that my friends, is retail therapy at its best.
“The job interviewer and the dream (?) job”
Most of us have heard that the entertainment industries are hard nuts to crack. Not only are they notorious for the high competition, but there’s also sexism, discrimination, extremely tough bosses and other eccentric personalities to tackle. Here are two short stories about girls who were interviewing for jobs in the city. The first one interviewed for a position in the film industry, while the other one for a position in the world of fashion.
The girl who interviewed for the film industry was met by an executive in a production company. He told her that he, as a boss, is tough and straightforward, but always courteous. He told her that he would, for example, never scream to her face that she is a stupid bitch who doesn’t know anything, even if he’d think that way and considered that a valid evaluation of one’s skills. Instead, he’d consider leaving out the word bitch and formulate his opinion slightly differently. Fair enough, she thought, at least he’s being honest and who wouldn’t appreciate honesty?
The other girl was offered a job in a prominent fashion house after a round of interviews. The excitement of the new position faded away quite quickly when she realized that she was hired to run personal errands to the assistant of the PA. This meant, in practice, running around the streets of New York on the most bizarre tasks one could imagine. She did, however, learn how to run with six cupcakes without destroying the frosting, what the hottest party accessories for the season were and other essential things for a fashionista-kind-of-life. Needless to say, she didn’t stay there too long.
The waiter that never stopped talking
Two friends who live in different cities reunited for a weekend together. She lives in New York, while he lives in a city a flight away with always-sunny weather. Both of them appreciate good food, wines, and laughter, and so they like to have long dinners together and talk for hours. On one particular night, they decided to try out a newly opened hot spot in the city that was run by a chef they both admired. Everything about the restaurant was flawless; the décor was beautiful and elegant, the atmosphere sexy and intimate (like an Argentinian restaurant ought to have), and the food was mouth-watering. The only element that didn’t quite fit the setting was their waiter; a peculiar little man who was almost too eager to serve them and share his thoughts. Whenever one of them locked eyes with him (usually by mistake), he took it as an invitation to come and chat a little. He told stories about the house of Veuve Clicquot, about his professional past and what not. Whenever one of them uttered a word, it was like the missing key that would open his Pandora’s box of a mouth. He would not stop talking and soon he was like the uninvited third guest to the party of two. When they left he asked her if she thought that the waiter really was a born and bred New Yorker, like he had insisted. To which she replied: “He’s too dorky to be from New York”.
Words: Lina Hagstrom
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