What's My Line?

(Originally published on 3/16/20, COVID-lockdown eve in New York City. Seems like only yesterday and a long time ago.)

What a difference a couple of weeks make. Just hours ago, I consumed my final meal—French toast with bacon—in a local diner. Along with every other eatery in New York City, the place will be shuttering its doors for dine-in customers for who knows how long. I’m told that the diner will remain open for take-out orders and—according to a waitress—throwback street service ala the old drive-in restaurants of the 1950s. Perhaps some of the employees will be on roller skates—or skateboards—tomorrow.

As of today, all city schools are closed—to at least April 20th. That’s a rather nice holiday. Were I of school age, I’d probably looking on the bright side of the coronavirus. But the key question is: How will this lost time be made up? Personally, I’d hate—as a trade-off—attending school in the summer.

On a whole host of fronts: Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I can’t help but feel for all the men and women impacted by these indefinite closures. So many people live from paycheck to paycheck. And I suspect a lot of these restaurants, bars, and other businesses—compelled to shut down—don’t have much of a reserve to sustain them through weeks and months of cashlessness. The rents alone are astronomical. 

What's my line? I was in a crowded marketplace this afternoon. Come on, folks: Let's knock off the hoarding!  It's no wonder I can't get "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street" out of my mind.

One day soon: Things will start looking up again...

And that coffee cup will be filled and refilled.

Portents of things to come: I passed by this diner yesterday at the Sunday brunch hour. Just a smattering of patrons in a place typically crammed with customers.

When life gives you the coronavirus, get on the Wendy's drive-thru line. Some things transcend all.

Get it while you can.

And to think that I just got accustomed to the fist bump and now that's unacceptable.

What's a ten-mile walk before work...

This establishment beat the city fathers and mothers to the punch and closed days before the official ban. It's always good to remain optimistic that "things will get better."

Here's another eatery that took the crisis into its own hands. 

Times Square was pretty quiet this weekend. The Naked Cowboy was nowhere to be seen. Looking rather forlorn with few tourists to fleece, I did, however, spy this tall, creepy-looking guy dressed as Lady Liberty—whom I've seen before—aimlessly meandering No Man's Land. 

Everyone's gone to the moon...

It's the little people who will feel the pinch of the coming days and weeks.

All's quiet on West Street and One World Trade Center.

The street food vendors can still ply their trade. But what's the point when there are no customers?

A St. Patrick's Day without a parade and open bars. A couple of weeks ago, nobody could have imagined it.

Who was that masked man?

Keep calm and dance on! Why not?

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)