Among other things to do in New York, there is going to the bank. Normally, you have to make a debit or credit card, and this always involves a long wait in the bank’s office where you want to open the account.
A short time ago, I waited more than half an hour for them to attend to me, and a grandpa approached me with a smiling face and a police cap.
Among other things, I think he did it because he had a face of boredom that no one would understand, and why are we at a time of year, where being in an air-conditioned room is better than the street itself.
The question is that he told me that when he was young he traveled throughout Spain. He named me one of the most beautiful, small cities, and nobody here knows, which is Murcia. He is one of the few people in New York, who know that city, and his products from the garden. Now, he was a dermatologist and he told me that he was analyzing cancer at Mont Sinai in New York. For more inri gave me his card and told me, if I could find a girlfriend, tall and his age. The truth is that the adventures in Manhattan are better than a George Cloney movie in full youth.
You never know what will happen to you, and if you deduce it, you are wrong. There is always something that excites you from Manhattan and best of all, you don’t expect it. From meeting a policeman in a bank, to becoming friends with the one who sells the fruit, in the corner of your street, through a white-haired lady in an upper east side bar who lives alone and has 5 cats in her house and ending a clash with a Spanish Blogger at the exit of mass.
I never called that policeman, nor told him anything about my life, but I liked to get to the idea that there are people out there kind of and that somehow you call the attention of the least expected.
I still have your card today. I keep it in case one day I need your help. And so happy.
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