What’s in a smile? Apparently a lot.

by novemberyankeecharlie

Look straight ahead. Those three words I heard from a random stranger, an old man on Avenue C when I first arrived in Manhattan, have proved to be an invaluable lesson. But not in the way he meant. At the time, I took him for just another delusional character that made me love my downtown neighbourhood even more. Now, after four months of living here I realise he wasn’t delusional at all, he was a god damn prophet. Back in Melbourne I would have made eye contact with any average joe on the street, in particular any above average joe on the street. I would have smiled and they would have smiled back, maybe dipped their head or said ‘morning’ if I was on my way to work. I make Melbourne sound like a small ol’ town outside of Tennessee, but honestly this behaviour isn’t uncommon, even in a city of 6 million people.

New York, I quickly came to understand wasn’t the same.

On my second day in New York, I smiled at a young couple in the street because they looked so happy, their response was to look down and huddle together as if in deep conspiracy whilst standing so close to the building beside them they looked as if they were attempting to scale it.

A couple of weeks later I made eye contact with an elderly man on 1st Avenue, seemingly harmless with brown loafers and grey hair poking out of a beanie that looked exactly like the one I wore from Urban Outfitters. As was my nature, I smiled at him in a brief manner that mimicked my determined stride. Next thing I knew this guy was on my heels from 1st Avenue onto the F line subway. Encouragement, was how my house mate described it. “Lou, look up, look down, look straight ahead, but whatever you do, DON’T ENGAGE.”.

I’ve experienced many moments in 4 months that confirm that I should follow this train of thought, just look straight ahead as if unaware of anything around me. However, my naivety and the incapacity I have to be immune to such an amazing city has led me to dismiss the words of that old man on Avenue C, instead leading me to create my own mantra: Always look around. Those three words will be the sole reason I will always carry a scrapbook in my mind of the time I’ve spent here.

Dear New York,

You willed me to look at you when I passed the community gardens along 6th street, and if I hadn’t I might have missed that one last orange leaf lingering from Autumn when the snow began to fall in December.

You demanded that I glance up at the Empire State Building every time I walked into work, just in case the lights had changed or even just to confirm that I was living in New York City and it wasn’t a dream.

I walked to the West Village opposite Washington Square Park and tested myself to not to look at the park just that one time… But I couldn’t not look. You made me look. The man who plays the baby grand piano in the middle of the square was playing Claire de Lune and a crowd had  formed, swaying, despite the sub zero temperatures.

Whilst smoking a cigarette on my rooftop, you showed me a sunset in the middle of winter that will never be topped. It was just too great for even a mental scrapbook to capture; I had to use my phone and even that didn’t get it right.

This is what I see in New York, and I’m seeing a lot, and if that’s what making eye contact means then I’m ok with being just a little bit crazy.

Yours truly,

November Yankee Charlie.