The New York Press presents The 50 Most Loathsome New Yorkers. I feel kinda cool that I know someone on this list (#15). And I’m really glad that the employees of the Strand made the grade (#29):
SLAVING AT A used bookshop may be a nobler vocation than trading pork bellies, but is it too much to ask that someone make eye contact through his or her Elvis Costello glasses? Is it unreasonable to expect the occasional acknowledgement of a customer’s presence? Do new employees take classes to learn how to display utter contempt?
For the very reasons expressed above, I hate asking for help at that store. I’m glad to learn it’s not just me.
