The bunch was gathered in the middle of the way, bearing high big cardboard signs. I wondered what the claim was. Money for their basketball team? An educational school trip to Cancun in April? To protest the percentage of squirrel in the park or the price of Diesel jeans? After spending a good 30 seconds trying to guess, I turned around to find out which of my assumptions was right. "Free Hugs" it said.
What!? "Free Hugs?"
"Free" I understood: provided that you can pay for the plane ticket to get here and a $1000/ month for the boiler room - I mean, the "vintage" looking bedroom- everything else in this city can be found for free: food samples at every corner, totally usable furniture on recycle night, "medical" stress check up on the 42nd street subway stop, books, classes, car and good karma on craigslist, and free potential STD in every club.
"Hugs" seemed pretty clear by now as well: as you might know, when meeting a fellow friend French nationals kiss on the cheek - 2, 3, or even 4 times depending on the region we're from. Yes, it can take forever to say high to everyone, so you start choosing your friends more carefully. Live and learn (alternatively the handshake is used when introduced to a professional contact, an older person, or a tax representative.) The first person who ever hugged me in this country was Anne Hathaway -I can't believe she's so famous now... She had showed up at my house on the second day of school begging for some ice, when she realized I did not have any, nor did I have a fridge, a kitchen table, chair, or anything else for that matter. Fresh off the boat and relocated in a build-it-yourself-recyclable-paper-house to be a French T.A. as Vassar College for a year, I surely wasn't expected to be greeted with such a close body contact without at least some sort of fair warning. But there it was, my very first hug, and with it my understanding of countless law suits for sexual harassment. I later learned to reciprocate while being less personal and give the sometimes well deserved icy tap tap on the back. Moving to the big Apple I also learned you could hug people you had just met, people whose name you'll never know or have never been able to pronounce.
But back to my college kids' banner. While I understood both the "Free" and the "Hug" concepts separately, it felt off when put together, just like mayo with hot chocolate sauce: it's sounded a bit much. So I sat there and watched.
Here a fellow student, there a mom. A kid, a dog, a grandpa. Everyone crossing their path and responding to the "freeeeeeeeeeeee Hug! Spread the love!" chant would be welcomed with opened arms. No political or religious message behind, just the pleasure of giving with nothing in return. I even saw a busy banker-type mouthing a "why????" while on a conference call, and who ended up dropping the blackberry for a brief second to get his due when simply answered "because." It was almost moving to see. It also gave me hope that socially awkward nerds don't only rally up to chat in Klingon at night; they also use their time for the smaller greater good -the one within the planet, not the galaxy.
Recharged and filled with silly joy I took a picture of these "Happy days" providers, quickly but firmly told the girl who was approaching me arms wide open to stay away as I was recovering from a bad case of strep throat, and went back to work. I [heart] you too, New York.
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