Ten Little Indians

images-1 Every Sunday morning I go to Tal Bagels on 83rd and Lexington to get one of their mini specials. After six days of oatmeal I give myself a break. Not that I’m not fond of the porridge I make every day with its healthy accouterments…flaxseed, fruit, almonds…but let’s face it, even a good thing has its limits.

The place is owned and run by an Indian family all under five feet tall, ranging from the mother who sits in the back, her bright blue bindi blinking as you enter, a father who resentfully bakes and a hoard of snotty sons that wait on you.

The only thing missing at Tal’s is charm.

The bagel I get that I top with an organic soft-boiled egg would fit on your keychain. It’s the tiniest of bagels that I pay .85 for, but perfect if you don’t want all that excess yeast that inflates your stomach like helium.

Every Sunday without fail, one of the Indians after I order will say, “Just woon?” “Yes, I answer, “Just one.” He reluctantly puts it in a bag and grimaces every time I ask for a napkin. I ask you, how much could a half-ply piece of paper cost anyway?

This particular morning a very Floridian looking woman was standing behind me. You know the type, all Botoxed and landfilled dressed from head to toe in black even though it’s 6:15 in the morning.

Dunncha lav it hea?” she whined into my better ear. “Oy make-em FedEx me a feeu dazen ta moy otha house. Oy’m hea at my pea-e-tea but spand heaf the yea in Pawm Beeech (no shit lady). I never understand the need to talk so much at that hour, especially to someone you don’t know.

Wanting to flee but my Connecticut refusing to allow it, I stood there listening to this woman whose face made me dizzy since both cheeks kind of veered to the left. What, did Doctor Nutjob forget to use his ruler? Talk about ads for leaving your face alone.

She was raving about Tals. I mean, it’s okay and its biggest feature for me is that it opens so early, but it’s not exactly the Stage Deli. I finally said, “You sound like you’d be a great PR woman.”

What possessed me because she went into a swoon I could have truly done without. “Oy whaz a P-AH woman be-forr oy met moy Oyvinghaw paceptive you ah.”

I then, tying the noose tighter said, “Since you love them so much, why not do PR for Tals.”

Vot a gerr-ate oy-dea. Oyed do it fa bagels.”

Made perfect sense considering how many she orders. I could make the same offer to get my weekly bagel for free. Maybe I can come early and help them lift the gate. I’m up. Oh what am I saying, anyway…I finally escaped Maa-rilyn who wrote her number on a napkin that Indian number four gladly gave her, in case I’m ever in Pawm Beeech.

Vee cun Shahh-p.”

As I walked home with my pint-sized bagel that pretty soon would become a paperweight, I thought, maybe I should just solder it to my keychain, to get my .85 worth.

I’m a girl on a budget after all, and what’s a little Quaker Oats seven days in a row.

Oy vey, is all I can say.


About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Family, food, humor, New York City, parents, travel, women and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to Ten Little Indians

  1. micklively says:

    Say hurrah for cultural interaction! The bengalis are the greatest chefs in the world (IMHO). We had Jas and Raj for dinner yesterday (no: we didn’t eat them). Jas had never tried a traditional English trifle before. Happy days!


  2. Dear Lord ….. if it’s any consolation, I would have taken the bait too. Hahaha! It’s hard to walk away from the bad plastic surgery, there are so many questions.


    • Like, what were you thinking? She was crooked, like a tablecloth askew on a dining room table. And it wasn’t even light yet. Can’t imagine what she looks like after 8. I went home and gave myself a cucumber mask and promised my face, that was shuddering, I’d never do anything like that.


  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    I can identify, Susannah. Minimum talking in the morning. Leave me be until I finish sipping my Café Vienna.


  4. AF says:

    HYSTERICAL!!! The way you capture diction. “haw paceptive you ah!”


  5. Elle Knowles says:

    It’s 8:05 am and all the talking I can muster up right now is on the computer. H calls me most mornings at 7 am on his way to work and I don’t always comprehend what he is saying. I think I need a bagel!


  6. katecrimmins says:

    So funny! This is why some of my best posts are about the exercise ladies at my gym. I go there BEFORE coffee so everything is either annoying or bizarre. Great for blog material!


  7. Patricia says:

    You do meet the most interesting peeps. I was at a dinner recently and one of the women…who was a very attractive 80 something….but she obviously had a lift because she looked so surprised and her lips were huge. I couldn’t stop looking at them. It was difficult talking to her…her lips looked like little balloons.


    • That’s very funny…she looked so surprised…permanently so. I get wanting to look younger, BELIEVE ME…but the synthetic effect is downright scary. You just want to look well rested, like Jackie O did. You never knew whether or not she had work done, yet she had. Subtle…that’s the key.


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