So I’m at a deli across from the old NSSR building on 65 Fifth. You know the kind, food in bins, buy by the pound, crowded, urban, blah. Whatever. And there’s a girl who looks like a freshman new to the city that’s getting some food rather gingerly and daintily next to me. All of a sudden a guy on the other side of the heat table starts having a coughing fit.
“Gross!” she says loudly, putting her foam box down. She turns to her friend and says, “Come on, let’s go to that other deli around the corner.”
They walk out.
I was about to ask her whether she didn’t think, given the fact that the food is exposed and sitting there all day and it is New York, that the other deli around the corner, and indeed all delis in New York, might be about the same in terms of exposure to germs, given the fact that everywhere in this city are nothing but crowds milling about, and it is cold season.
But then I decided I didn’t want her to starve, so I kept my mouth shut.