Monologue: I am a Human of New York and no one has ever asked to take my picture.
I’m a pretty interesting person. I’m not the most interesting person in the world or anything, but people generally say I come off as charismatic and pleasantly quirky. So it’s just a little weird that I’ve never been approached, interviewed, or photographed by the tall, granola man I’m told runs Humans Of New York.
I get that there are almost nine million people throughout the five boroughs. But how many of them walk around Central Park wearing a graphic tee of a forlorn Cookie Monster asking, ‘what’s kale?’ I love going to the High Line and getting lunch at Pret A Manger. I use the subway! I’m the quintessential New Yorker, but, again, I’m also different. And quirky.
I should also mention that I’m pretty attractive. Not, like, supermodel attractive, but at least a 6/10… maybe a 6.5. Think a poor man’s Dave Franco. Actually, think a middle class man’s Dave Franco. I don’t say that to brag — it’s just so you have the full picture.
And honestly I’m funny too! I’ve got more than a few one-liners saved in the ol’ noggin. For example, if the dude asks me where I’m from, I’ll say: “a small farm town originally — the type of place with more cows than people and more incest than cows.” I know it’s not, like, Seth MacFarlane-level comedy, but it’s fine. And I know how to pause halfway through to make it seem totally organic. If I said it to you at a cocktail party you’d think I was really clever.
I’m not mad. If anything, I’m a tad confused. The organization is called Humans of New York and I am literally a human of New York — an interesting, conventionally handsome human of New York. And I haven’t once been stopped to talk about my life by Brandon Stanton? Yes, I know his name is Brandon Stanton.
I realize the odds are stacked against me. I don’t really have any of the life experiences that are guaranteed to get you a HONY picture. I’m not narcoleptic or something cool like that. Plus, demographically I’m screwed. Sad teenagers, old people, and divorcées tend to get all the attention. Unfortunately, I’m none of those things. But a few months ago I started wearing a Minions backpack to up my game, so that’s something I guess.
To reiterate, I’m not mad, but Jesus how hard is it to get a single, stupid HONY picture. I just want one. And it doesn’t even have to go viral! And for Pete’s sake if I wake up one more morning, open my laptop, and realize I wasted all of yesterday afternoon scoping out SoHo when I should have been on friggin’ Coney Island I will literally take a bath with a toaster.
If, by chance, you’re reading this Brandon, you can find me sitting on a bench in Washington Square Park from 4pm to 8pm, Monday through Sunday, for the next two weeks. I will be the man with the Minions backpack.
A Human of New York