Purchasing Fruit in the City

Every Monday I like to buy fruit from a guy on the corner of Broadway and 35th Street. He's a short, dark guy of non-specific origin. If I had to guess I'd say Guyana or perhaps a Caribbean nation. He speaks with a moderate accent that is rather difficult to identify.

His stand is located conveniently near my bus stop and can be on the way to work. It can just as easily be avoided if I'd rather not pass that way. He stocks a respectable variety of fruit for a little cart.

We, of course, recognize each other quite well by now. He greets me warmly, we make very small talk, then he loads my bag with fruits of my choosing. I pay him for said fruits (usually totaling between $3 and $5), exchange one last pleasantry, and then walk to the office. We do not know each others' names.

Anyway, today I went by to purchase a small selection of fruits - I ultimately settled on 4 bananas, 2 oranges, and 2 grapefruits since I am only in the office 4 days this week. My bus, however, was running late so I arrived about 20 minutes later than usual - about 8:45 AM or so. It would seem that 8:45 is a bad time to be buying fruit. It is a very busy time for West Midtown.

In front of me on "line" were about 4 or 5 women of different ages. One of them was manhandling some Chilean plums. At one point, there were several on the sidewalk. My fruit guy didn't like this. He told her in an annoyed voice, "Don't buy those plums... They've been on the floor." As she came to pay him he also presented her with some grapes that both he and I had clearly heard her ask for. Her response to the grapes was, "What's this? I didn't want this." My fruit guy told her to "Hold on, I have to take care of this guy." He gave me a bag for my fruit and took my $3 with a friendly greeting. The plum-dropping woman had left. Fruit guy addressed me, in the hearing of other customers, "Man, there are all kinds of people... And I deal with them all working here in New York."