NY, NY IV: NYC-Style Pizza
My mother gave me a call a few weeks ago, "I heard you vaz gonna be in town tomorrow. You vant to go to the Buffet?""Actually, I'm not passing through Piscataway, Anyu. I'm heading straight to New York City to see my friend's gallery show."
"Oh, noooo! New York is dangerous!"
"I've been to New York a zillion times. I'll be fine."
"Didn't Anita get mugged last time she was in New York?"
"First of all, that was TEN YEARS AGO. And you are incorrect. She was in Piscataway at the time. See? I'm safe in the City while all you scaredy cats in the suburbs get held up for your hoagies." (read about the mugging here)
"Make sure you vear your glasses so you can see if somevon is mugging you."
"Anyu, I can see perfectly fine without glasses, I wear contacts."
"I hate dose tings! Your eyes need to breathe more. Promise to vear you glasses."
"Fine, I'll wear my glasses."
"Vell, just be careful. Are you brinking a man vit you for protection?"
I groaned.
The next day, my friends and I took the train in to New York and I could not stop thinking about delicious New York...
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October 8th,2009 Short Stories | tags: hungarian-american, hungary, short, stories, transylvania, true |
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We’ve all got a crazy family story, the ones we pull out when a party gets dull to stir up a round of belly laughs. People might not even believe that Uncle John burned down the garage or wrenched an old lady from her burning station wagon, but they beg you to tell it over and over again. 
