If you get off the A Train at Dyckman Street and walk a little, you’ll find The Met Cloisters inside Fort Tryon Park. I love visiting it because of its peaceful gardens and medieval European monastery-style buildings that overlook the Hudson River. I went there with my book club members.
After walking through the museum, we spread out a picnic on the grass. Our vice president had brought lunch boxes, watermelon, coffee, madeleines, and other baked goods. We even made a toast with Makku—a sparkling Korean rice wine made by a friend’s daughter-in-law. It had a clean, fizzy taste—not too sweet, not too heavy.
Children nearby were also sitting in a circle eating lunch. That reminded me of my childhood—how I used to watch the teachers having lunch together during school field trips. Our picnic food was similar to those old-fashioned lunch boxes: bulgogi, pork, dried pollack (codari), stir-fried lotus root with anchovies, and seasoned radish and spinach.
If I had been the one in charge, I probably would’ve just handed everyone a kimbap roll and a bottle of water. But good leaders are different. Our group leaders had gone to many stores, tasted different lunch boxes, and brought the best one. The watermelon was perfectly ripe and cut into bite-size pieces.
I told myself, “It’s my job to follow well the lead of the president and vice president.” So I simply enjoyed the good food and good company and headed home.
This happened at Dyckman Street. We didn’t know the area well, so we followed one of our younger members—she’s in her 40s. (In our book club, members range from 40s to 70s.) Suddenly, a big white man stopped us and asked,
“Do you speak English?”
We thought he might be a tourist asking for directions. But even if we could speak English, we didn’t know the neighborhood well enough to help. The four of us just stood there in silence, staring at his face.
Then he asked,
“Where are you from? Are you from Asia?”
The way he asked didn’t feel right. I was standing closest to him, so I said,
“I’m from West End Avenue,”
with a look that said, Why are you asking me this? We all stood there awkwardly for a moment, then quietly walked away.
This was the second time this month a man had talked to me on the street. Maybe it’s because, after the pandemic, there are more lonely people wanting to chat? It felt strange to have this happen twice in such a short time. So I searched YouTube to learn why men approach women on the street.
Here’s what I found:
“Don’t talk to a group—approach a woman who’s alone. Look clean and well-dressed. Start a natural conversation and casually compliment her style or fashion. If she says no, don’t get angry. Just walk away calmly. The more you practice, the better your chances.”
If you’re single, maybe it’s better to go out on a sunny day and try this, rather than stay home and feel lonely or depressed.
Why not try—to find your own happiness?
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