Only in New York...
PG and I were sitting in Worldwide Plaza after the show on Saturday night when my allergies kicked in and I started having a coughing fit. He left to go try to track me down a water, while I stayed there trying to catch my breath.
After a few minutes, the friendly neighborhood drug dealer put down his pot and came over to me with a very concerned look on his face.
“Are you OK? Do you want me to get you a water?”
I replied no, as you usually do when a stranger offers you a beverage.
“No really! Let me get you a water!”
I protested again, REALLY not wanting to be indebted to the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.
“I’m going over there anyway! I’ll be right back. I’ll bring you a water.”
And he left.
At this point I frantically dialed PG and hissed “where are you?!?! The drug dealer just left to get me a water!!”
I don’t think he believed me, as he did not, in fact, hurry back, and of course the friendly neighborhood drug dealer returned first, happily presenting me with my water and then going back to his perch.
Is it rude to drink it? Not to drink it? Such is the dilemma I never expected to be having.
PG finally came back (with caffeine free diet coke? WTF? Drug dealer wins!) and sat down, and the poor drug dealer kept glancing over forlornly. How he didn’t see PG there the FIRST time is beyond me, but I felt horribly guilty. Eventually I couldn’t take the sad face anymore, and we left.
The end.
After a few minutes, the friendly neighborhood drug dealer put down his pot and came over to me with a very concerned look on his face.
“Are you OK? Do you want me to get you a water?”
I replied no, as you usually do when a stranger offers you a beverage.
“No really! Let me get you a water!”
I protested again, REALLY not wanting to be indebted to the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.
“I’m going over there anyway! I’ll be right back. I’ll bring you a water.”
And he left.
At this point I frantically dialed PG and hissed “where are you?!?! The drug dealer just left to get me a water!!”
I don’t think he believed me, as he did not, in fact, hurry back, and of course the friendly neighborhood drug dealer returned first, happily presenting me with my water and then going back to his perch.
Is it rude to drink it? Not to drink it? Such is the dilemma I never expected to be having.
PG finally came back (with caffeine free diet coke? WTF? Drug dealer wins!) and sat down, and the poor drug dealer kept glancing over forlornly. How he didn’t see PG there the FIRST time is beyond me, but I felt horribly guilty. Eventually I couldn’t take the sad face anymore, and we left.
The end.