This is a picture of some really cool fence artwork in the park by our apartment in Alphabet City. This park has a lot of weeping willows and a dog playground. It’s really cool to walk around here and see peoples’ gardens, but it would be a lot cooler if the owners of the Cat Stevens-playing coffee shop across the street weren’t such assholes. These guys were the worst. I feel like they tricked me. They put their “9th St. Espresso” right next to “Ahmed’s Deli and Coffee Buns,” so naturally, now that I’m walking in the park and want a coffee, I’m going to choose the more visually appealing of the two shops. Everyone in there had an accent and a flannel top, which was a positive sign to me. I hoped no one notice I wasn’t wearing Toms. But when I asked for sugar for my latte the cashier sighed and pulled out a paper plate holding sweetener packets from behind the counter, as if their set up of plastic stirrers and napkins was too trendy for splenda.
To make matters worse, on my way back I wanted gum so I went into Ahmed’s. And he gave me a free lollipop with my purchase. So nice. When I walked by 9th St. Espresso, someone with a face tattoo was sitting on the patio. This made me really happy.
Gentrification is a fickle beast. I’m very happy to have a coffee shop in my neighborhood that attracts young poets and Ethan Frome readers, but the crowd also annoy the shit out of me with their pretentiousness and they look like idiots in those hats.