Nina In New York: The Infamous Upper West Side Eyesore
A young professional's take on the trials and tribulations of everyday life in New York City.
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My old block is looking really, really sad. In the last year, the stretch of Amsterdam between 78th and 79th has seen almost all of its independently-owned businesses shut down and papered over. They have been sitting vacant, for the most part, growing more ragged and desolate week after week. One Upper West Sider has made local news for his or her reaction to the depressing scene, which is to cover the windows of all the shuttered stores with stickers that read "this is neighborhood decay," "this is a neighborhood eyesore," and "this is neighborhood rot."
I can't say I disagree.
I lived around the corner from that block for nearly four years. And in that time, I guess I didn't avail myself too much of the services offered. I tried the shoemaker a few times before I realized that their pricing structure consisted of charging $10 per shoe for every task, which was great when the job was huge and ridiculous when the job was placing new tread stickers on the soles of a new pair of heels. I pet the cat in the locksmith's shop a few times and walked in and out of the eyeglass place once. But the one that really broke my heart was the Shining Star Diner.
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Okay, it wasn't the greatest diner in the world, or even in the neighborhood. Their food was a little bland, and the place was a little shabby, their prices were a little shocking. But they had sidewalk seating in warm weather, they were open 24-hours, and I don't think I had to eat there more than twice before the owner/manager started recognizing me and greeting me each time I passed, which was all the time. He would wave to me as I walked by on my way home, or when I was rounding the corner with the dog, or occasionally when I was heading out with Mr. Pajak or my mother to eat at a different diner a few blocks away (we're diner people).
I became stricken with guilt for not patronizing them enough, and I make up my mind to choose them more often. Once every so often, my friends and I would drunkenly find ourselves there eating grilled cheese and french fries at 3:00 a.m. (bad, bad, bad), talking at completely unacceptable levels of volume and generally making a harmless yet completely annoying-ruckus. That made me feel even guiltier.
At one point I got it in my head that they were completely starved for business due to my neglect, and I was single-handedly responsible for supporting them and keeping them alive. I gave Mr. Pajak an impassioned and slightly panicked lecture on why, despite our previous judgement of the place, we simply had to continue eating there as often as possible. That Sunday morning I dragged him out of the apartment and down the street to do just that.
"We'll take the paper! It'll be fun! Just us at our neighborhood joint, a couple of neighborhood people just drinking coffee and eating pancakes and supporting local neighborhood business! Right? Right?"
When we got there, we had to wait for a table. Our breakfast for two cost close to $50. Mr. Pajak spent a lot of time glowering at me over the Week in Review.
"I guess they're doing okay!"
More glowering.
"I'm relieved. Aren't you relieved? How are your pancakes? All done? Okay I think we can go."
I didn't push the issue after that.
And now where the Shining Star Diner once stood, a designer candy emporium/bake shop/cafe/chocolatier—or "yumm shoppe"—is slated to open sometime next year. I'm sure I'll check it out, for while I strongly object to their intense cuteness, I am an equal opportunity candy-eater. And it'll be a relief to see some commerce happening on a block that has been covered in tattered brown craft paper and drooping duct tape for months.
But I can't help but feel like it's going to be equally sad to see a bright, happy yumm shoppe beaming from the formerly humble, friendly corner spot, no matter how delicious its contents. I don't think I'll ever stop feeling that pang of guilt when I pass by that space. I definitely should have eaten more pancakes.
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Dear Readers: While I am rarely at a loss for words, I'm always grateful for column ideas. Please feel free to e-mail me your suggestions.
Nina Pajak is a writer and publishing professional living with her husband on the Upper West Side.
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