It’s about 2:30pm as I sit across on a big rock from the dog park on 135^th. The dog park isn’t much, but the dogs seem to enjoy it. Its located on a slanted hill and the benches where the owners sit are at the bottom lined up. Every time a dog enters the gates to the park Tinker the golden retriever greets them as if he was security. Tinkers owner sits on the bench with his legs crossed, looks like he is in his mid-twenties wearing a graphic t shirt. I noticed that he seemed like he was in a daze staring at the ground. The next person who entered the dog park came in with a phone pressed to her ear with a medium sized dog and a tennis ball in his mouth.  She paced the dog park walking back and forth engrossed in her phone call, as her dog ran around chasing his ball. She looked like a businesswoman and she could have possibly been on a call. A small poodle came in next accompanied with her owner. What I noticed is that most of the dogs mimicked their owners. Or the owners got dogs to fit their personalities. The poodle owner seemed like a quirky quite girl, her dog was a small golden poodle with a cute face that ran in between her legs. Tinker seemed sociable but also laid back just like his owner. Dash, the businesswoman’s dog matched the energy of the women. I personally really enjoyed Tinker.

I decided to observe and pay attention to what people do and their reactions when in the train, especially in the subway. For the most part, I would usually be on my phone and not look up until I get to my stop but this time was different. During my 45 minutes commute from college to my house, I noticed certain patterns among those in those in the same train car as me. I stood by the doors because it was slightly packed. I look up and see that most people were on their phones. Some occasionally looked up but quickly went back to the screen in their hands after realizing that their stop is yet to come. There was something about seeing a series of people in the same crouching-like position staring at the screen of their phones at the same time.

Now, there were the ones who, with their belongings on their lap somehow managed to sleep soundly. Personally, no matter how tired I am, I couldn’t possibly be able to sleep in the train. There were a couple of them with their head leaned against the seat, face facing up others facing down, hugging their bags with their eyes closed. I noticed that it was mostly middle aged men who did this while those submerged in their phones were younger.

Moving on to the homeless individuals who barge in every car to ask for money and tell their story. More often than not, they would be wearing slightly torn dirty clothes. For the most part, people would just ignore them or stare and some would occasionally give them coins. When these things happen, I notice that almost everyone makes eye contact and shake their head as if they all shared some inside joke and then there is this momentarily mutual understanding passing by. I found it fascinating how people can find things they have in common but still be disconnected from one another in a matter of seconds.

I decided to observe my neighborhood park, which looks unrecognizable from the memories of my childhood after undergoing renovations. Due to my schedule, I was only able to visit in the evening – specifically around 6:30 PM. I walked into what I had expected: a nearly empty park. There were around ten people, though none in the section meant for toddlers. A small group of kids, perhaps around ten years old, playing on the slide while two little kids on scooters circled the vicinity. I sat down on a bench, the majority of which were empty, a lone woman seated a few benches down. The occasional scream and laughs of children could be heard, but it was otherwise quiet. The cars passing on a moderately used avenue underneath the elevated train – passing less frequently since the rush hour was over – becoming background noise.

The people who current the park are immigrants, mainly Latinx and Central Asian of the area, as well as Hasidic Jews – though they were absent during my visit due to Purim. The adults there kept to themselves, either looking at their child or their phones. Though I wasn’t present when more residents are in the area, I remember from my childhood, things being similar. The children have no quarrels talking to a random child for entertainment, yet, unless they are already acquainted, guardians do not engage in conversation. However, this could stem from language barriers.

As time passed, people slowly trickled out, except for a mother and daughter that walked in. The duo gave me the impression that the mother was making the sacrifice of going to the park with her daughter after a long day’s work. Reminding me of my mother, who tells us of the countless times she treaded out to please my sister and me. A common theme among all the adults who wouldn’t be there other than for their children.

I had already set my mind in leaving once the sunset. I assumed no one would be there once daylight was gone, however, there were still a few stragglers left. Besides, parks at night tend to have a negative connotation, usually being associated with delinquency. Along with insufficient lighting casting shadows and leaving some areas dark, it made the place scary with spare life. I left feeling a bit calmer just from sitting outside listening to the noise around though I felt stupid sitting in a park alone with no child to begin with.

I observed the field I work in while I was on my break and at the end of the day. I work in a dental surgery office. They only remove teeth; for example, wisdom teeth. It is a very fast paced environment. There is no actual time to rest. It seems that the mornings are much more busier than the afternoons. The assistants have to rush getting the room ready, setting up the sterilization area, and take all the x-rays. After that, they quickly have to set up the patient in the computers and the rooms before the doctor gets there. As the surgery is happening, the assistants have to do everything that the doctor asks and keep out their way.  After the surgeries, the assistants have to quickly clean the rooms and set up the next patient. As I observed, I noticed how sometimes the assistants got frustrated because they are overworked. I often heard them complaining about other females that do not put the work in and often heard about them complaining about having horrible management. As I spoke to some of the girls, I heard stories about how they have rebelled by quitting in bunches to fix the company; however, clearly it did not work. At the end of the day, the assistants have to clean the entire office. They have to clean the chairs, the table tops, and even the blood bucket and any little blood or teeth they see on the floor. After that they have to restock everything and prepare the room for the next day. This field was very stressful to observe because it constantly moving quickly.

Christiane Campbell                                                                                                       3/4/2020

CCNY | ENGL 21002

Discussion Post #2

In “The Hustlers at Scores” by Jessica Pressler, the nightlife of Manhattan’s white-collar men and strippers are exposed. Some main names to keep track of are Roselyn Keo, Samantha Barbash, Marsi Rosen, and Karina Pascucci. They, along with other women, stole from rich Wall Street men by luring them into strip clubs, drugging them, and then running up their credit card. In this article, Pressley conveys the shared beliefs of the women, carefully selecting background information to help the readers in understanding the story and bringing her informants to life with her vivid descriptions.

The driving belief of the women in this operation was that the white-collared men that came to the strip clubs were indecent scumbags, and they were filthy rich anyway, so they deserved to have their credit cards wiped clean. This is conveyed when Pressley includes quotes from Keo and Barbash (respectively) where they say, “The men were mostly assholes” and “They had history. They’d been to Hustler, they’d been to Rick’s, they’d been to Scores. They all walked in ready to party.” Another quote by Keo further portrays this shared belief when she says $10,000 was “nothing to [the rich men]”. In other words, these wealthy, white-collar men deserved to have their money stolen because they were morally degraded and being robbed of a couple of tens of thousands would not financially destroy them anyway. 

Also, Pressley included background information to help the reader’s comprehension of the story. This is obvious through the background information she includes on the women in the scam and the men involved in them. From Rosie, a high school dropout who realized the financial advantages in the strip club industry from a young age; Samatha Barbash, another stripper who later became the leader of a strip club pyramid scheme; Mari Rosen and Karina Pascucci, who were both strip recruits of Barbash. Background information on the men were also included, such as that of an employee at Guggenheim Partners that spent $100k every time he was at the strip club; Brian, a white-collar professional who let his fiancee’s visa expire in hopes of being with Roselyn; Dr.Zyad Younan, a cardiologist who racked up a $135k bill from the women. This background information helps the reader understand the story because it magnifies the relationship between the women’s backgrounds and the high profile clients they were dealing with, emphasizing the “these men are rich scumbags, so it doesn’t matter if we steal from them” mentality. Lastly, Pressley brings the informants to life with her vivid descriptions. For example, she described Barbash as “Jessica Rabbit curvy, her lips Angelina Jolie puffy; her hair, which concealed tattoos of a cascade of stars running down her neck, was Cleopatra black”. 

As one can see, Pressley is successful in ensuring that the audience understands the story and keeps them engaged with evocative descriptions.