New York and the art of oversharing

Good afternoon, Thursday. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of the pontiff at (ahem) rush hour. That should be a lot of fun. I dig him, though. He's been a wonderful guest of our country so far and hope NY pulls out all the stops for him (who's paying for that again?). But I digress.

Sometimes I just have to share some of the funny stuff that I hear or see in New York on the regs. If you are my Facebook friend, you no doubt have noted my fascination with "Starbucks guy"- that dude I see early in the am on the way to the gym as I coffee up, who feels the need to do very loud conference calls spewing jargon at 6 am. Classic. 

The other day I was in Trader Joe's in Brooklyn and was queued up in front of a woman wearing sequins (it was still daylight) who proceeded to tell the (very lucky) person on the phone with her how she is "just learning to get her voice", and how "she was never heard as a child and she is just now learning to express herself" and how liberating and refreshing it is "to be heard" and to feel "free to speak". Uh. Huh.  And though the years of therapy and gluten free eating and Pilates had most likely made her a better human, I think she was taking things a bit too literally. For just because one feels the need to be heard does not mean one needs to literally shout. In public. At rush hours In Trader Joe's. And at a decibel and pitch not meant for human consumption.  Oh, and now "Joe really understands" her and her "need to have a voice and be acknowledged". Don't worry, lady. So do we. So do we.

As far as oversharing goes, New Yorkers have always been ahead of the curve. We talk a bit too loud and since we are constantly surrounded by people, we tend to not give a single F about sharing news of our lives with the world around us. I will never forget when riding in a packed elevator with a dear friend some time ago, she proceeded to squawk about her yeast infection, and "Thank G-d" for Gynelotrimin. I kid you not. #almostdied

In many ways, I self identify as a New Yorker, but my tendency to embarrass easily makes me feel like more of a Brit. I am perpetually red in the face for the many ridiculous things I see and hear people do and say. I can't help it. But in an age where we post everything we eat, wear, and think, I'd say New Yorkers were always sharing with the public, even before social media came to be. I'm pleased the woman at Trader Joe's has found her voice, and secretly feel great relief when I see Starbucks guy in the morning and listen in on his status reports. Because even though I'm not loud, I am very much a voyeur. And New York is simply the best for those who like to watch, and listen. After all, we are (butt) cheek to cheek on the subway, standing huddled together in line at Trader Joe's and at Dig Inn, and doing down dog close enough to to hear the thoughts of those whose mat is right next to yours (too close by the way), even if they are not saying anything. Or my personal favorite- people who eat a full meal on the train or think that steamed broccoli in today's shared office experience is a ok. (It's so not).

Cause that's what's up this no need to eavesdrop kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in the seen and heard.  Personal space, anyone? XO