After dropping KZ off at school today, I started walking home with one of the other mothers. She's a smart, independent, professional from the Bronx. I wouldn't try to cross this woman, ever. We walk a couple blocks south before she stopped for a paper.
"Post, please," she said.
The newspaper man didn't even seem to notice her.
"Post! Please!" she said as she waved a dollar in front of his face.
The guy perks up, gives her the paper and her change.
"It so obvious that these guys don't make their money selling papers," she said
Obvious, yes, obvious, that is what it is. I agree because I'm guessing no one could make a living selling papers on the street corner in New York.
"If you see a deal going down, just walk away," she said.
"I know. I don't want to even be involved in that," I said.
"Well, at least you know where to get drugs in our neighborhood."
Oh, I guess I do now. I know downtown people used the NYU delivery service. I guess we live too far north for that. Honestly, I think I'll just keep getting my paper delivered. It's safer, albeit more boring, that way.
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