Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Our Jamaican New Yorker

Unfortunately I’m still at the office late every evening or so. Fortunately our cleaner comes in and adds momentum to the crew working late. Well. He does it unintentionally. He’s about 40-65 (it is as hard to tell as it is difficult to tell whether an avocado is good or not by simple stares). He constantly wears his huge headphones and jams along to the same rhythm he swipes the floor. Or maybe it’s the music that sets the pace and the mop follows. Whenever you greet/ask/whatever him he just looks up with his big grin and delivers the same but distinctively Jamaican accent-fueled phrase along the lines of, “Ya man!” no matter what you just said. Then he jams on across the floor, unhurriedly swinging his body to the music. I bet it’s reggae.

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