Mr. Victor.

When I moved up to Harlem in the summer, I quickly found out that I’d be having to use a laundromat for the first time in my life. There’s only one in my neighborhood, and it’s been in operation for twenty-something years under the watchful eye of Mr. Victor. He’s a neighborhood legend. But how could I know that when I first stumbled in, heavy-laden with Trader Joe’s bags full of delicates?

Over the course of several months, this man has become my friend. When I show up at his door, he usually says in his Jamaican drawl, “Hi, sweetheart. You work today?” and tries to feed me. I’m not sure how many times he’s handed me a banana during my spin cycle and insisted that I eat it, the whole time clucking about how I’m “too skinny”. It’s always hard to get myself out the door on laundry day, but Mr. Victor makes it worth the time and trouble.

This morning, I walked into the middle of a spirited argument between him and an old friend about piercings. Suddenly aware of the additional holes I’ve had punched in my head, I decided it was better not to weigh in and, instead, opted to try my disappearing act on for size. I guess Mr. Vic picked up on that, because after a few minutes, he sidled over and gently thumbed a cartilage piercing before cupping my chin and saying, “Hi, sweetheart. You don’t pay no mind”.

He’s an old man. Married. Children. Grandchildren. And because of this, I don’t mind his familiarity. In fact, it’s been a big comfort on the days when I’ve shown up with a tearstreaked face. He’s learned it’s better not to ask, but is quick to give out a little extra affection when I’m in need. It constantly humbles me to see what a genuine interest he has taken in my little life back east and, for that matter, how he so easily recalls the life stories of each person to cross the threshold of his business.

I love that old man with all my heart. How could I have known that what seemed like a terrifying chore would become both a highlight and a necessary staple in my week?

God bless Mr. Victor and his gentle spirit. I’ll really miss him when I’m gone.