IN WHICH I EXPLAIN HOW IT HAPPENED
Last week I was at Yonah Schimmels Knish Bakery on E. Houston sitting at the table waiting for my knish, one chocolate and one potato. At $3.50 a pop I only stop by when I am flush with cash after having a good run at a pitch game.
I was reading some news report in the Times about how people don't have any money, or too much of it, I forget. The counter help at the bakery brought my knish over. As I glanced up to say thank you in Polish, I saw it wasn't the old guy I had given my order to, but Andrew Krucoff, looking pretty handsome in a crisp black shirt and pristine white apron and arm garter. Not only did he bring my knish, but also a peach spritzer I did not ask for. That kind of confused me but I did not protest because I love those fruit spritzers more than I like cigarettes so I just said thanks and drank it. He winked at me and walked away, back behind the counter to sit on a milk crate, having a conversation in Yiddish with the older guy I gave my order to.
No sooner did the last forkful of knish enter my mouth, and a paper plane came flying over my shoulder, sharply diving to the table, landing right in front of me. I reached to pick it up but before I could do so, it unfolded itself, unvealing a note written inside. I looked back at the counter and Andrew was no longer there. When I asked the old guy where he went, he just shrugged.
So I left and took the paper plane with me, reading the note outside. Nick Denton walked by and I snapped a photo with my camera phone and sent it into Gawker Stalker. They did not post the sighting.
Looking back at the note, this is what it said verbatim. "I am in receipt of your email. Here is your login for YM. Remember that this is an AD FREE blog that features long narratives, often on a continuing series of topics people can't follow, or material you've gathered while offering your services as a volunteer. You can write in either capacity. Further, I don't edit your posts, so please don't ask me to proof read first. I like to tell all my new hires we really only have one rule at YM. If in doubt, just do the opposite of what you think Brian Van would do."
I was reading some news report in the Times about how people don't have any money, or too much of it, I forget. The counter help at the bakery brought my knish over. As I glanced up to say thank you in Polish, I saw it wasn't the old guy I had given my order to, but Andrew Krucoff, looking pretty handsome in a crisp black shirt and pristine white apron and arm garter. Not only did he bring my knish, but also a peach spritzer I did not ask for. That kind of confused me but I did not protest because I love those fruit spritzers more than I like cigarettes so I just said thanks and drank it. He winked at me and walked away, back behind the counter to sit on a milk crate, having a conversation in Yiddish with the older guy I gave my order to.
No sooner did the last forkful of knish enter my mouth, and a paper plane came flying over my shoulder, sharply diving to the table, landing right in front of me. I reached to pick it up but before I could do so, it unfolded itself, unvealing a note written inside. I looked back at the counter and Andrew was no longer there. When I asked the old guy where he went, he just shrugged.
So I left and took the paper plane with me, reading the note outside. Nick Denton walked by and I snapped a photo with my camera phone and sent it into Gawker Stalker. They did not post the sighting.
Looking back at the note, this is what it said verbatim. "I am in receipt of your email. Here is your login for YM. Remember that this is an AD FREE blog that features long narratives, often on a continuing series of topics people can't follow, or material you've gathered while offering your services as a volunteer. You can write in either capacity. Further, I don't edit your posts, so please don't ask me to proof read first. I like to tell all my new hires we really only have one rule at YM. If in doubt, just do the opposite of what you think Brian Van would do."
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