Tuesday, May 31, 2005 - #199
As an NYU student in the early 90s, I spent plenty of time waiting for trains at West 4 St station. It was even less of a pretty sight then -- panhandlers and the stench of piss were everywhere.
Younger readers and newcomers to NYC probably don't remember these bad old days -- economic recession, murder (2,200 annually versus around 600 now), crack, drive-by shootings, aggressive beggars, race riots, trash everywhere, and a general sense that anything could happen to you walking down the street and nobody would care if it did.
On the other hand, we didn't have a single Starbucks back then, so I guess it wasn't all bad.
One night around 10:30, I was waiting for an A train to Washington Heights, which at the time was one of the city's largest open-air drug markets -- heroin al fresco served daily. I was heading up there to drop off a paper at a professor's home before the deadline of 11pm. (Yeah, I was a pretty hardcore procrastinator even then.)
I was more than a bit worried about heading up to this neighborhood that I knew only by reputation, especially at night, but I had to get the paper in.
A guy my age dressed entirely in camouflage approached and demanded money -- all of it.
"I don't have anything," I said.
"Don't make me search you," he replied.
Of course, I was terrified but I also didn't want to give him the few bucks and credit cards I had in my wallet. What could I do?
"Here," I said as offered him a bottle of Snapple juice I'd brought along for the long subway ride uptown. "That's all I've got."
He took the drink and walked away. I was still in a state of shock and it wasn't until the train had arrived and I was on it that I'd realized I probably should have gone up to the token booth and tried to get a cop. How hard would it have been for them to find a kid dressed in military fatigues chugging a Snapple?
And it wasn't until much later that I reflected on the irony of nearly being mugged in relatively safe Greenwich Village -- just a block away from my dorm -- while worrying about the dangers awaiting me uptown in dangerous Washington Heights.
I slipped the paper under my professor's door and hurried back on the train. His neighborhood was tree-lined and quiet, not at all like West 4th St and Sixth Avenue. I don’t remember what I got on the paper, but I think I got a B+ in the class.
Posted at 7:37 AM
Filed under: Cultcha
Comments
word. i can't say i remember those days since i grew up out east on the island. i never felt safe there either.. parents always worried 'bout some dude kidnapping either my sister or myself. I guess nowadays we've traded that fear for another.
Posted by: Eric Tyrer at May 31, 2005 10:02 PM
I'm still amazed that you got away for the low low price of a Snapple. What flavor was it? I'll remember next time I'm in a dangerous part of town to arm myself with a Snapple...because I myself am poor and don't wanna get mugged.
Posted by: Ben K at May 31, 2005 10:04 PM
I don't remember what kind of Snapple it was, but I can tell you that it was back when Snapple actually included real juice in their products. I think a mugger today wouldn't settle for less than a Red Bull.
Posted by: JP at June 1, 2005 8:10 AM
