The News from Times Square, NYC
The day before New Years Eve, 2004
by Adam "Rev" Hulnick

New years eve is bearing down on us and if it more visible anywhere than Times Square, I don’t want to be there. The tourists are flocking in numbers too great to ignore, the hawkers are out in force selling their cheesy New Years crap: horns, noise makers, those glasses that say “2005” with eye holes in the zeros. (they only have four years left of those treasures.) Of course with so much new years crap for sale out there, the hawkers have to yell as loud as humanly possible to get your attention.

“New Year Tomorrow! Get Ready Party!”

And the tourists are getting thicker with each passing day. You can literally watch their numbers growing. Swelling like those little blobs you watched under the microscope in high school biology. Tourist mitosis. Then, emboldened with greater numbers they are venturing further out from their usual safety spots like ESPN Zone and The Olive Garden and filing in to the little lunch counters where I eat.

Now, I have written and will continue to write much on the subject of tourists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a mean-spirited person. I want people to enjoy their visit to my city; it’s a great place. The problem is that the majority of them act like complete assholes. Granted, they are probably assholes back home, which frees me to hate them on an individual basis.

The problem with tourists, and this is a universal fact, is that they ignore the fact that their vacation spot is where someone else actually lives. New York City is not a theme park. Neither is DC or Key West or pretty much anywhere, excepting the theme parks. No, there are nine million people who live in this city and a ton more who just work here, and we all have one thing in common: we have things to do. We have places to be. This does not set us up to have a lot of tolerance for couples in matching “I heart NY” t-shirts who are strolling down the busy sidewalk, holding hands two arms length apart. Guess what, you’re not just lovebirds, you’re a roadblock.

In general I like to see tourists taking the subway, bravely venturing away from the tourist spots that mean very little to the real world of NYC and seeing more of what life here is really about. I salute their courage; the subway system is confusing to people who ride it every day. But when, as happened yesterday, a group of them were blocking every turnstile into the subway and caused me to miss my train, that’s not cute. Hahaha, you’re having such a good time, laughing and joking, forging memories about the time you couldn’t figure out how to use that metrocard. Forge them in ONE turnstile and leave the others for those of us who want to be on that train whose doors are about to close.

I suppose I have helped further the stereotype of the “pushy New Yorker” as I shoulder my way through the packed Times Square sidewalk/obstacle course on my way to and from the office. But think about it, where does the stereotype originate? You never hear New Yorkers saying “we’re so pushy.” It’s the tourists who amble down the sidewalk, their digital camcorders documenting what a crowd looks like, holding hands and pulling overnight bags on little wheels, suddenly stopping in the middle of the sidewalk – they’re the ones who get the most of my shoulders and elbows. When they go home to Podunk, they only tell about the rude strangers, not the fact that they were effectively stopping foot traffic on that block.

And that goes back to the original problem. This is an amusement park for them. Walking is a novelty in their world so they don’t consider that for millions of people it is the way to get around. Our sidewalks are our major thoroughfares – it would be the equivalent of going to their suburban neighborhood, getting on the highway and then slamming on the brakes in the middle of traffic, blocking two or three lanes. The only difference is that you don’t have to trade insurance info when you shoulder-check a tourist, so I go ahead and go for it.

But, as I said, lately the tourists are becoming more and more numerous, to the point that the only apt description is that Times Square is lousy with them. You can barely move out there. My office is in a pretty non-descript office building: restaurant on the ground level, some big gates in front and revolving doors that lead into a lobby. One of a thousand of its kind. On my way to lunch I saw some tourists taking a picture of their kid in front of it. Perhaps the bona fide landmarks are all too crowded to take photos? And New Years Eve isn’t even until tomorrow.

But soon it will be over. The ball will drop, they will pack their cameras and their plastic statues of liberty into their suitcases on wheels and head to the airports in droves, stiffing cab drivers en masse. They’ll go home bragging about how expensive and dirty everything was and how pushy those New Yorkers were. Their numbers will thin until the sidewalks of Times Square become simply annoying rather than impassable. Once again the tourists will become a minority and they will know their place, if not out of consideration, then out of fear.





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