This is a valentine for the pairs of white-haired men in Washington Square Park, sliding chess pieces across a board with aplomb, conning novice players out of their cash, drinking from an endless tap of new opponents.
A valentine for the shuttered Sunshine Cinema, the Hudson Diner, and Manny’s Music: the ones that got away.
One for the things that will take their place: nothing is left vacant, here.
This is a valentine for the woman selling $2 arepas from a cart on 182nd Street, satiating the young, stumbly revelers spilling out of Inwood bars, and for all of the hot dog, pretzel, and halal vendors out there. For Joe’s Pizza: I will abide an ATM fee for you and you only.
This is a valentine for the lines at Roberta’s and the Supreme store, and for the burly men who stand guard at all the front doors of all the clubs with all the velvet ropes.