The Metropolis Men
By Zennie Trieu, New York, U.S.
March 2020. Lent. The first month of quarantine. I'll look back on this time and feel astonished all over again at how lucky I got in life. I marvel at the hand of cards I was dealt: a healthy body, a youthful heart, an inspired mind, and a decent soul. I look at my email and celebrate my employment at an incredible arts-in-education nonprofit. I check my computer and phone, feeling overwhelmed by bounteous love: bona fide friends from afar who'll cry with me and laugh about dumb memes and clever TikToks; family members from Jersey to L.A. who miss me but respect my independence as a young adult living in America's epicenter of this global pandemic; and a romantic partner I'll feel close to no matter the distance or time apart.
I also hold up another group of individuals who have inadvertently influenced my decision to stay in NYC for the foreseeable future: the bodega guys. Oh, yes. You already know: these corner delis have EVERYTHING. Breakfast sammies, Philly cheesesteaks, chicken or lamb or falafel over rice, an eclectic selection of healthy snacks and unhealthy indulgences, and random but essential items you should always have extras of around the house: chargers, batteries, shampoo, soap, IPAs, and microwavable popcorn.
When moving around Brooklyn and Manhattan after graduating from NYU, I always knew I wanted to live no more than a five minute walk from a bodega owned by a group of kind Yemeni family members and/or acquaintances. They're so freaking sweet to me, but not in a fake, forced way, or in a fashion that makes me feel like they want something from me. They're just genuinely nice and actually wanna know how my day is going; I feel like I'm making their days somehow slightly better just by saying "thank you." They brighten up quotidian life with their heavenly food, delightful service, and overall good vibes. Even in the past few weeks, the bodega dudes have retained dignity, compassion, and hospitality of the highest caliber. They do no-contact delivery like pros, gloved and masked, making sure all's well and giving us the thumbs up. My roommate and I like to tip them at least 40%. Honestly, I'd give them all my money. They carry this city like urban heroes. Thank you to the men who run this metropolis. You are missed, and I'm rooting for you every day.