My boss Manny started selling jewelry on Canal Street in 1954. He says that he didn’t sell his first diamond until a year later.
“Back then all diamonds were white. We didn’t know any better and better still neither did the Gs.” Manny’s speech is colored by hundreds of diamond selling terms interspersed with Yiddish. It’s his only foreign language. A G was a customer and G referred to their status as a goyim or now-jew. “I sold him a one-carat stone for $500. It’s probably worth ten times that now.”
Manny’s guesstimate was on the money. I did the math to make sure. He was rarely 100% wrong. Back in the late-70s I would visit Manny and his son, Richie Boy, at their store at the corner of Elizabeth and Canal. Lunchtime meant sandwiches from Little Italy. Salami and red peppers on crisp bread. Manny liked me, because I took care of his son at Hurrah, where I worked as the doorman. One Xmas he gave me a classic Pulsar watch. It showed the time whenever you moved your wrist. I loved that watch.
One Thanksgiving Eve I was at my friend RT’s apartment next to the Natural History Museum. His lovely wife and he held a party every year, so their friends could watch the workers inflated the balloons for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade.
It was probably 1990.
Richie Boy and I went to the party together. We drank more than anyone else at the party. People thought we were silly, but one young man admired my Pulsar watch. I took it off and he tried it on. I didn’t think anything about the watch, but several minutes later he was gone. I asked RT about his guest. RT said he was a painter. So was RT.
“He’s a painter.”
RT gave me his phone number.
Alexis Rockman.
He never answered the phone. New York is a small world and I have longevity on my side. Alexis is well-known for his futuristic paintings. They are sold for big money. Not really my taste, but one day I’ll run into him. he won’t remember me, but I’ll remember that he has my watch. I’ll be nice and ask him for it.
If I’m lucky, he’ll be cool and give it back after a few days.
It’s only the right thing to do, even after all those years.
Painting by Alexis Rockman
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