French Fries

in the middle of the street

Sunset Park, Brooklyn - Wednesday - 11:30 PM

It started with noise - party noise.

The kind of thing you love when you’re trying to get it going and hate when you’re trying to sleep. In the end all that was left was two overworked cops and some McDonald’s french fries.

Actually all it was, was a few people having some creative fun, two cops on duty, one cranky lady who accidentally helped them get away from the cops and me just sitting on my stoop going from anger to curiosity to jealousy to sympathy!

OK let’s rewind. Here’s what went down.

It started with what I assumed was a party overflow - a house party that spilled out into the street? People were being too loud (only because I was not one of the rabble rousers obviously) but just having a good time. Then a car rolled up, cranked the music and things got going. This was organized, at least in some way, like a mobile club scene that found a place on my street for just a moment.

I heard the music from my house which was about halfway down the block. I’m still not sure where it started but it ended with that car. It was pervasive enough that I decide to go outside and see what was going on. I think it was just before midnight at this point - late enough to raise an eyebrow on what is usually a pretty quiet street.

I came out and sat on my stoop just about the time that two people were walking by with a bag from McDonald’s and aiming for the music producing vehicle with the other folk hanging around. There were probably six or seven. I would characterize my mood as annoyance collapsing into curiosity. Annoyance was born of the sense that the peace and quiet of my evening was being violated. After two decades in the thrumming heart of the Lower East Side, I have come to appreciate the quiet streets of Sunset Park. But - this was interesting, and so far nothing aggressive or damaging was happening.

That was about to change. Enter the Karen - actually it really was Karen who lives about half a block from me right at the center of the action. She came storming out - full tilt ready to let the revelers have it. This was probably the moment any antipathy I had dissipated and some mild sympathy began to develop for the fun the people making all the racket were having. I don’t know if this was a planned event or just a kick-off to whatever they were going to get up to next but they were joyful and dressed to the nines for a night out. Either way Karen’s apoplexy was enough to make me know what side of this I wanted to be on.

Karen let them have it though, threatening police and retribution and generally making it clear that there was a zero tolerance policy for fun on this street. By now I was firmly on the side of the music makers and frankly a little jealous that I was just sitting on my stoop watching it all.

I can’t say for certain who called the police but if it was Karen she should have kept her own antics in check because eventually the revelers had had enough of her ranting and decided to pack it up and move on.

Just about then the police showed up. I was still outside and so they stopped to ask me if I knew what was going on. Apparently I look sufficiently un-fun since there was no suspicion that I might have been among the trouble makers! What ensued instead, was a conversation about the scale of police coverage (not much) on any given night and what my take on the events had been. I walked them up to the parking space that was now empty but for a handful of fries as we talked a bit more about the neighborhood. At this point Karen was ready to unpack her feelings on the matter to the already weary public servants and so I retired back to my house and went to bed.

All of this happened in probably no more than 20 minutes but I can’t stop thinking about it. What strikes me is not my reaction of annoyance but how quickly that gave way to amusement and pleasure at the idea that I live in a place filled with amazing people, where this kind of spontaneous joy could erupt. I was probably born a cranky old man and now that I am beginning to resemble that stereotype, I enjoy (and certainly need) a reminder to embrace something emergent, look for joy in others and for myself, and be glad I live in a neighborhood filled with all kinds of different people. Just one branch of an endless tree…