Tales of the Big Apple - Lost in Harlem.
- B K
- Sep 16, 2018
- 3 min read
One day I woke up in the southwest end of Long Island. Queens, New York. The peak of the summer season hits the city. It was hot and busy twenty four seven. City never ends. I love it. It has everything I need but only harder to get. Too much hustling. Leave me alone. It never ends but sometimes it is worth taking in the deal. You feel the vibe from the hustler's presences, the heat, the game, the deal of the day. He talks to you as he could offer you something special. No doubt he will try and suck up every dollar he can get from anyone’s pocket. A man’s ought to make a living. A man needs to strive and survive in this monstrous city. A man doesn’t have to give any body jack shit, unless he chooses to do so.
Each day began as soon I as plugged in the headphones and listened to my Spotify playlist from my phone and slot my monthly MTA pass at Court Square Station heading into the Manhattan core. Exit the Grand Central Station. The sight of Times Square hits the eyes sharp every time I exited from the underground station. Lost in the moment. Reality came back within a minute. Took a selfie. Checked the time. Let’s kick it bestie style. A foreigner with a million ideas and a thousand things to do in the city that never sleeps. People call you out all day, "Hey man, how you doin? Check it out, we got the deal of the day, where you from? Looking for the best tours in town? I gotta you man" Yells a black man with a bright red jacket with his matching hat on his head looking directly me from a short distance. I had a quick glance at the pamphlet. It was the best deal of tourist attractions and sightseeing packages I had seen over the last few hours. I passed up the offer. I had already spent my daily budget wisely on beers in Chinatown and a quickie with a girl that I had meet from Puerto Rico with silicone breast implants. Perfect breast but asymmetrical. The right tit was two inches away from the centre. It turned me on. Nice girl she was. Hustle hustle and hustle, the locals strive on the streets. They never stop. Don’t blame them for trying. New York is not cheap. It must be a hard life in the Big Apple. How does a traveller survive in this city? McDonalds for dinner is never a fail. Only killing yourself slowly with processed American poison. The taste buds sending you to an early grave just because you're broke. Food is anything cheap in your mouth when you are on a budget and living on the road. Walked and walked all over town. Instagram fever, snapping the city and all the hot spots. Post after post. Hashtag - NewYorkhereIcome. Can’t get enough likes on my page. Must keep exploring the city and capture that ONE epic shot. Boom! 173 likes! Checked the battery life, there was only 4% juice left. Searched inside the backpack and no portable charger found. CRAP ! It was time for a drink. Walked into a bar near 125th St & Lexington Ave. The Bar was dark and shady. About fifteen unhappy people in there. I parked at the bar front and I ordered an American water - Budweiser. The fat bartender comes to deliver my beer. You're not from around here, you know where you're at? He asked in a yankee twang accent, standing directly in front of me, resting his fat palms on the edge of bar bench, looking at me bizarrely. Yeah mate, New York City, I answered with a little jokey laughter. Nope. You’re in Harlem whitey and clearly a tourist, be careful around here. He had responded to me quicker than I had placed my hand on the pint. He then took another good look at me before he slowly turned and walked away towards the other end of the bar and continued reading his paper. I drank my alcoholic water. There was no rush. Pulled out the old folded paper map of the city from the backpack.
I was somewhere in the dangers of Harlem...