Toilet paper was at a premium so it helped that Florence saved all the napkins from Nedicks. Sometimes there were doors. Other times there wasn't. And it didn't matter that there was a person in there that was talking to the wall or to someone next to the wall we just couldn't see.
Even if we didn't know their name or the name of whoever they were talking to, they were our neighbor. After all, we were all using the same bathroom.
*and now for the joke MAN ONE: Are you a man or a mouse? MAN TWO: Put a piece of cheese down and find out!
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.