Tag Archives: New York City

A New York Minute: It’s All Greek To Me

9 Oct

October 9, 2015


Hey! We’re back with a New York Minute for you. Some of you out there may still remember those. Anyway, buckle up and away we go.

They’re filming a movie a couple of blocks away from me. I never did find out if it was a movie or TV show, but it was filmed at a Greek diner and the scene they shot over the course of a week was a police standoff. The actors were not familiar to me, and judging by the lack of autograph seekers or publicity they weren’t big names. There was your standard plainclothes cop with a shoulder holster, your standard female FBI agent in a severe black suit, and one- and only one- member of a SWAT team in full camouflage and armor. (I later found out that it was The Blacklist. I’ve never seen the show, but I understand that as of today the episode hasn’t aired yet.)

For about a week there were movie trailers and equipment littering the area and taking up a lot of valuable parking spots, and then one day they were all gone.

This isn’t the first time they’ve filmed a movie in my area. Aside from Saturday Night Fever, which I covered in a very early New York Minute, they also filmed a Steven Seagal film around here in the early 90’s, Out for Justice, I think. I’m pretty sure it was the one where Seagal wore a beret and a sleeveless vest and sleeveless shirt combo. That was the outfit that best showed off his, um, acting skills, I believe. Anyway, please don’t ask me to go back and watch it.

out for justiceWhile that was filming, I ended up with my Dad in Williamsburg, which is about as far from my end of Brooklyn as you can get and still be in the borough. Another movie was filming there at the same time as the Seagal opus, and whatever it was, it was a small indie effort. My dad, with a little superior smirk, gave the crew a dig and said “not like the Steven Seagal movie they’re shooting by me, huh?” That may be the strangest piece of reflected glory I ever heard.

But back to the present, and the Greek diner. The diner isn’t very good, which is why I won’t give them any free publicity, but it is a great example of 1970’s architecture. It looks now the same way it looked when I was a kid, right down to the ripped carpets and stained seats. Greek diners are a New York staple. In fact, the official NYC store sells ceramic copies of the iconic Greek blue coffee cups, the one with the Greek urns on it. In fact, I once worked with a guy who called every diner “that Greek place.” This caused a lot of confusion when he wanted to meet me at the “that Greek place” and I never found it, despite actually standing right in front of it. Why was it so hard to find? The “Greek” diner proudly had a big red Albanian flag waving in the window.

Greek diners have been New York staples since the 1950’s, and they are distinct from the tin clad railroad car looking diners you see all across America. They are noted for the large rotating pastry displays you can usually find right as you walk in. According to the New York Times, so you may want to take this with a grain of salt, most New York diners are owned by people of Greek decent. And while you can always get a range of Greek food, they serve it all, from Matzoh ball soup to cheeseburgers. Come to think of it, I can’t count the number of times I’ve had that exact combination.

From my part of Bensonhurst, I am just 10 minutes away from two very good Greek diners, and 5 minutes away from the not-so-hot one where the movie was just filmed. And that may be a touch ironic, since the Greek population of Brooklyn has been on the decline for years. But the diners are still going strong.

This has been your New York Minute. All this diner talk has made me hungry. Maybe I’ll watch Out for Justice to lose my appetite.


This post is, by a happy coincidence, appearing on my father’s birthday. Happy Birthday Dad! We all miss you.

An audio version of this story recently appeared in the amazing FlashPulp website. Check them out for awesomeness and goodies!

Whatever It Was, It Almost Happened To Me

25 Jul

July 25, 2015

Before I begin this tale, I’d like to give some very brief background so that this story can make even less sense than it already does. This took place in the middle of the day, around 12:30, in a residential area with plenty of people around (there are large apartment buildings on two of the four corners) and I am not a child, I am a middle aged man.

I was crossing the street and there was one car in the intersection, waiting at the red light. As I neared the car, I noticed the guy behind the wheel slide his hand out of the window and, without looking at me, wiggle his fingers in a “come here” gesture.

I paid no attention to it as I was sure he didn’t mean me. The driver was older, 65 at least, with longish white hair and a white beard. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt. I was wearing shorts and my old Fantastic Four t-shirt. I kept crossing the street and as I drew nearly parallel to the car I heard, quite loudly, his door locks open.

This just felt weird but I still didn’t think it had anything to do with me. I glanced behind me to see who was there, worried that there was a kid behind me who was his target.

There was no one there. He meant me.

Of course I just kept walking across the street, and when I got to the corner I turned back to look at the car. The driver was still looking straight ahead, and when the light turned green he drove away.

I’m not sure how to explain this. Was he trying to pick me up? Abduct me? Or did he simply want to ask me for directions but went about it in the most sinister and easily misunderstood way possible?

I may never know, but I know one thing. If the old guy really did want to pull something hinky, he probably would have broken a hip in the process.

It could have been like this

It could have been like this

Or it could have been like this

Or it could have been like this


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