Beware the Muffin Man

I’m well into my morning commute by the time I breeze through the Union Square Greenmarket, but I don’t become conscious until then. Revived by a new landscape of radish-end hills, jam jar pyramids, and arugula forests, I start scanning the stands in hopes of breakfast. When I pass the Muffin Madness stand I weaken, but keep walking.

There’s no fear of carbs here, it’s just that that muffin man once held my change hostage. “We charge a tax here,” he’d said, holding up my quarter. “I need to see a smile.” Now, a little background about this demand. Over the years, sporadically, but too often, I’d have “Smile, honey” tossed out to me on the street by construction workers, bums, dudes swarmed outside a bar, and assorted passers-by. “Hey, smile.” “Give us a smile.” Or in the case of one street musician “JEE-suz lady life ain’t so bad! SMIIIIILE!” I’m primed to ignore it, keep walking. And I don’t hear it as much now, perhaps because I keep my ipod on, or perhaps because I’ve aged out of the barely-legal desirability bracket for these dudes.

But, if there’s a muffin at stake? Maybe I should ditch my baggage and plaster a grin on my face at their prompting. Anyway, today there’s a different guy manning the stand, and I figure they can’t both be annoying. Our conversation follows:

Muffin Dude: (stares off into space for several seconds as I stand waiting).
Me: (a little tentative) Hello?
Muffin Dude: (head swivels toward me, but dead stare remains)
Me: Could I have an apple cider muffin please?
Muffin Dude: You can have anything you want.
Me: Ok, I’d like an apple cider muffin.
Muffin Dude: I’ll even put it in a bag for you.
Me (holding out money): Um, that’d be great, thanks.
Muffin Dude: I just need one little smile first.
Me (surprised by my swift rage, but calm): I don’t think you’ll be getting that.
Muffin Dude: I can see it. I see a smile. It wants to come out.
Me: Can I have the muffin or not?
Muffin Dude (miffed): It’s Just a Smile.
Me (shoving my money in my pocket): You know what, forget it.

It’s not smiling that I hate, it’s assholes. So now you’re prepared for their weird little schtick, and for however much it may irk you. For my part, I’ll be muffin-shopping at these delicious, no-bullshit alternatives:

Body and Soul – in the Northwest corner of the Greenmarket on Mondays and Fridays. Good carrot orange muffins.

Vegan Scone Lady – can be found on Fridays along the West-side stretch of the Greenmarket. Yummy apple scones.

City Bakery – on 18th at 5th Avenue. Good raspberry bran muffin ($2.75) and the baker’s muffin ($3.50) is pure powdered-sugar decadence. Might as well pick up one of their pretzel croissants while you’re at it, which will make you forget you wanted a muffin in the first place.