If you live in New York City, or if you have visited NYC, then you probably have an “Only in New York Story.”

I am walking down the street in Williamsburg, the land of Hasidim and Hipsters, when I come across a group, mostly white people, with a couple of Black people sprinkled among them, being led by a tour guide.

If you live In New York City, then you are bound to bump into tourists, some led by tour guides.  But this group catches my attention.  As the tour guide delivers his spiel, I can’t take my eyes off of four people.  They are rolling a large watermelon down the street.  It is the largest watermelon I have ever seen.  It is the size of a Mercedes Sprinter.  “Only in New York!” I mutter under my breath.  Out of curiosity, I join the tourists.  The tour guide is talking about the Great Migration of Hipsters into Williamsburg. I look around, see Hipsters here and there, totally not representing or defining Brooklyn cool.  I look back at the men pushing the ginormous watermelon through the streets of Williamsburg.  They stop at a red light.  The tour guide says that at one time Williamsburg was overrun with crime, and that the number one crime was the theft of watermelon.  He is demonstrating how safe the neighborhood is now by having the four tourists roll the gigantic watermelon down the street.  At this time, I’ve had enough!  I’m a born and bred Brooklynite, from what was designated as East Williamsburg. I can’t broker lies about my beloved borough, now considered the “coolest City on the planet.”  Don’t give Hipsters credit for that!  Disgusted, I jump on top of the watermelon and start hacking at it with a machete, but I can’t cut through the rind.  I jump off the watermelon, push the tourists pushing it out of the way, and give the watermelon a swift kick.  It rolls into oncoming traffic, right into a Mercedes Sprinter, which it almost overturns.  Jaded New Yorkers are aghast.  We have seen everything, but not a gigantic watermelon rolling down the street!

The tour guide points at me, yells, “Hey, Watermelon Man!”  I wake up.  “Only in New York,” I say, “even in my dreams.”