$27 and "Goodfellas"

$27 dollars. How's it always come to $27 dollars? A random smattering of people from all over the world, placed on to the Grey Line line (is that just redundant?) in on order maintained only by their personal schedulesand the diligent managerial work of our dispatchers, brought here to New York on a schedule only semi-cross cultural, assuming school groups in the spring, families in the summer, older couples in the fall, and only lovers, historians and idiots in the in the winter.

These groups, or packs, pairs or cadres come to The Greatest City in the World each with different budgets, different concepts on tipping. (though it's pretty easy to tell- Europeans & Asians: Bad. Americans & UKers: Good. Australians: Varies.) So how is it, that in the end, atfer a countless number of smirk, hand-in-pocket and dash-out-the-door, a stack of one's, a handful of change, the occassional five and rare ten or twenty, my 50% cut and the end of a good tour, so often comes to exactly $27?

Now I need to define what I mean by a "good" tour. Being a tour guide is a performer's job, so either you're on, or you're not. If weather's good, preferably sunny/part cloudly with a nice breeze that's the first factor. I've got to be feeling good, which after a 3AM night at a Williamsburg rock show doesn't seem to kick in, that's factor two. An English-speaking bus helps, and one that's attentive makes three. Moderately moving traffic (the ocassional jam is expected, at which point you pull out your any-spot spiels. Mine are what the water-towers are all about, and where to get a good NYC slice and a dog.) is four. And five, lucky five? That's your opening bit. You need to let these people know who you are, and what makes their guide really a "New Yorker". Knowing the guide as a person who lives and works in this exciting city in which they're having a vacation is a good way to make them want to give you money. I start my tour sometimes with a Sinatra impression, a loud proud shout-out to Brooklyn and a reference to my 4 generations of history and heritage in New York City. If the eyes light up, it's smooth sailing from there, if not? Well, I've got a few more spots to get the juices flowing.

Anyhowz, I had a $27 10am run, which makes me happy and hungry by the time I step off at 12:30. ready for my self-reward of a big ol' salad from Carve on the corner, often consisting of corn, chicken, egg whites, blue cheese, and other randoms to mix it up, before I plop down in the theater. . . ah. It's an old Grey Line classic. Goodfellas. If it's ever a slow day, and nobody brought in anything good, we go with Goodfellas. An old NYC classic, giving all us workaday shmoes a moment of gangsta fantasy before we get back to the millstone.

Either way, there's one scene, about thirty minutes in, where they're all sitting in the restaurant, before the famous "Funny like a clown?" monologue that gets each and every guide in the semi-lit theater to grit his teeth, just a little bit. . .

"For us to live any other way was nuts.

To us those goody-good people who
worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks...

...and took the subway to work and
worried about bills, were dead.

They were suckers.
They had no balls."

Yep, we each all thought through our furrowed brows, until one of us inevitably said it:

"That's us guys. They're talking about us."