Songs for the Struggling Artist

At my local bagel shop the other day, the cashier said to me, “Oh, I thought I recognized you. You’re the nice one.”

This may be the saddest thing I have ever heard. Like, sure, I’m nice. But I definitely don’t want to be THE nice one. I want to be among the nice ones. ONES. Plural. Then, she went on, “Yeah, you say thank you and all that.”

WHAT?! What is happening, people?! Are you NOT SAYING THANK YOU to the people who serve you? What the hell is wrong with people?! I mean. Listen – I’m happy to be memorable because of my bright smile and my charming sense of humor. If you remember me for my magnetic personality – that is A-OKAY. I am delightful and I’m glad when people notice. But to remember me because I’m the only person who says, “Thank you?!” That is not okay. You know – all of y’all have to do better.

Does saying thank you come naturally to me? Sure. I could not grow up in the South without knowing how to say Please and Thank You. They’d take away my birth certificate if I didn’t. BUT. Even in this mad New York world, people gotta say thank you, too. Most people do, actually. You HAVE to, guys.

I have concerns about my neighbors now. Who is coming here and not being polite?

A few days later, I was back at the spot and witnessed a woman quietly saying, “Thank you so much.” Twice. So I know I’m not literally the ONLY one saying, “Thank you.” But I have concerns. And they are not disconnected to the car count I did the other day. Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of out of state plates and fancy cars parked on my street. There was a Jaguar parked in front of my laundromat the other day. And there seems to be an endless supply of BMWs. So I counted them. In the block leading to my building, I counted eight BMWs and four Mercedes. Now – to qualify – some of my best friends drive BMWs. Literally. One or two BMWs on my block would not have even caught my attention.

It’s like, one giraffe in the neighborhood would be pretty cool. We’d all be like, “Wow, have you seen the giraffe?” and feed it from our second story apartments. A pair of giraffes might be kind of sweet. But twelve giraffes? That starts to be a herd and we start to have some trouble. A street full of fancy cars is a like a herd of giraffes showing up in the neighborhood. I have concerns.

Look, there have been some studies related to fancy cars and the tendency to be a jerk. You can read about it in Scientific American, of all places. And of course, I’m not talking about you, my BMW driving friends – you’re like that first giraffe and maybe even the second. The study points out that while fancy car drivers tended to be the jerkiest, only half of those in the study were really jerky. But I suppose given the established correlation between fancy cars and bad behavior, it might be possible that there are a lot more rude folks buying bagels in the neighborhood. The gentrification of my neighborhood is escalating. And it is having some weird effects. There are a lot of metaphorical giraffes and I am now the nice one who says thank you.

Please say thank you when you buy stuff. It’s not hard. You can drive a fancy car and still be nice. I do not want to be the ONLY nice one. Thank you in advance.

“Y’all want to go get a bagel?”

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