Every neighborhood in New York has local characters. Quirky and unique individuals that add to the charm of our beloved city.
Being a somewhat curious man, I always observe the people around me. Next to our building is a pub. Nearly every time I walk by, there is an elderly lady sitting on the bench outside the bar chain smoking Parliament Lights. I think she lives there. There's the guy whose self appointed full-time job is opening the door for the patrons at McDonalds. He must work there at least a 120 hours a week.
One guy that always makes me laugh is the owner of the local Dunkin' Donuts on Amsterdam Avenue. Not only does he have a very thick Pakistani accent, his name is Babu. It's right there on his name tag. When he talks, all I hear is "Babu has only Pakistani restaurant, but where is people?!? Show me people! There are no people!" "You are a bad man Jerry! A very bad man!" Ah, it's great to be immature.
Babu running the donut shop is almost as funny as the bloke that ran the 7-11 in my Los Feliz neighborhood in L.A. I'd pop in for a Slurpee and bag of David's sunflower seeds and barely be able to keep it together as I said "Thank you, Jafar." His name was Jafar. Hand to heaven that is true.
Jafar. That is just hilarious...