Scenes Post-Sandy: New Yorkers are Nice.

“Everyone is being so nice,” she said as she looked at the prices on the salad bar. “These aren’t bad at all!”

“No,” I agreed. “This is where we come for chicken salad.” Instead of the bodega across the street.

She told me she had heard there was an open grocery store on 57th street and she had been taking the now-working M11 up until someone told her about this store on 42nd.

She was from below 34th street on the West Side. Probably Chelsea. Her neighborhood has no power, so all the shops are closed.

Many of the shelves here were bare of certain staples. Fewer meats. And there were no chicken breasts at the little meat market across the street. Only legs and wings.

She said, “I’ll get stuff here and then take the M11 back.”

I told her she could get that on the 9th avenue corner.

Like the others, I got a few things and then stood in the long line. No one was griping. No one was hoarding.

The car horns are honking constantly. The traffic on 10th avenue is a nightmare.

We've been told to stay in unless there's a reason to go out. So, that's exactly what we're doing.