As I have probably mentioned, my glamorous job is in “Midtown” which basically means what it says, in the middle of (Manhattan) town. I noticed thumbing through my Zagat that the (in)famous Soup Nazi (“NY’s best-behaved clientele”) from Seinfeld fame is only a few avenues away. He's really called "Al, The Real Soupman" at his place called "The Soup Kitchen." Seeing as how it’s a cold and rainy February day, what better time to enjoy a warm and inviting bowl of nourishment? Plus, I was a big fan of the show and it would be fun to see the inspiration for one of my favorite episodes.
I have to admit that I was pretty nervous. I mean, if the guy is anything like he is on television, he’s going to be a harsh and intimidating character. It was a bit of a walk in the rain and wind, but I soon reached the place, which was surprisingly small, a little hole in the wall (almost literally!) cut out of the avenue, maybe only 10 feet wide. When I saw his face, there was no question, that was the man! (I’d seen clips of the “real” Soup Nazi before). I immediately reached in my purse and pulled out my money. It’s true, there are a few signs, in about four different languages, instructing you to be ready! Be quick! And have your money ready! And don’t forget to move to the “EXTREME left.” I knew KNEW I had only $10 in ones (I’d counted it before, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure and started frantically counting it out in my hand. Many of the bills were new and so stuck together causing me to fly into a slight panic. I thought I would get the large soup (really the medium-sized since the third was considered an extra-large). It was $9. In pure Newman fashion a la Seinfeld, I said “Large Muligatawny, please,” and handed him the money as if I was heiling Hitler. He took it without looking at it and placed it in the drawer. I suddenly realized that the soup really WAS $9 (tax must have been included) and that he had $1 too much. *scream* Oh no! Conflict! Just the kind of thing that’s supposed to set him off. But hey, right now EVERY dollar is important to me and I still consider $9 to be a LOT for lunch, so I leaned forward gingerly and said, “I’m sorry, um…I thought there was tax…I gave you $10.” Then, I waited.
With only a blink, he opened the register back up, slid out a buck, and handed to me. Phew! That seemed okay. I dutifully moved to the extreme left and waited for my large cup of nectar-of-the-gods soup. A rather large, brown shopping bag was handed to me by a rushed worker. It seemed a bit big for one cup of soup. I peered inside and saw what appeared to be many different things in there, including a large and luscious banana.
“Ummm, I don’t think this is mine…I only ordered…”
“Yes! That’s yours!” proclaimed the Soupman.
Oooh! Okay! I almost skipped off with my bounty, and it really was. It seemed to take forever to get back to my place of work, all the time trying to protect the precious, paper-wrapped cargo from the rain which was slowly destroying the bag. I finally got there (the balls of my feet burning slightly) and proceeded to the lonely workroom in the basement where I laid it all out. The soup. A large banana. A large piece of fresh bread. A small tub of salad (as in potato salad/coleslaw-like), a small basket of fruit including grapes, strawberries, and a small apple, and finally, a dainty little chocolate. Wow! What a haul! And so healthy and multi-food groupy too! I’d say that was worth my hard-earned nine bucks! Hats off, to Al Yeganeh, “The Real Soupman!” Hooray! No more Soup Nazi for you! It’s King Al from now on!
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