How you doin'?

Before I moved to South Philly, I thought "How you doin'?" was a question reserved only for television characters, like Joey Tribiani on Friends. I had no idea that those witty bastards were stealing a line from real people. I suppose art really does imitate life.

Generally speaking, "How you doin'?" is a standard greeting around these parts. More like "hello". Not to be confused with "how are you doing?". It's more of a rhetorical question. The appropriate response is to reply with a head nod and "How you doin?" Unless, you're a midwestern transplant with an accent like a blaring fog horn. If the midwestern accent is your lot, it's best just to nod and move on.

Once, I tried to respond to a woman with a similar "How you doin?" and she looked at me like my head was spinning and I was projectile vomiting. I'm pretty sure it's because, to her delicate ears, my lame attempt to sound local came out exactly like: "Good morning my lady! Would you care for a spot of tea?" Ever since then, I've reverted to nodding and going on about my business like a good little mute girl.

There is one notable exception to the "How you doin'?" as general greeting rule, when used in exactly the Joey Tribiani fashion. You get the head to toe once over, typically accompanied by an approving nod, followed by "how you doin'?" It's gross. Well...it's usually gross, but it depends on who says it. I once went out with a guy because of a really well delivered and appreciative "Ha-lo. How you doin'?" Usually it's not so suave, but I've come to appreciate it for the local nuance that it is.

Another local nuance, neighborhood coffee shops that are reserved exclusively for Italian men. If it's not raining, there are always at least 10 Italian men sitting in front of these tiny places. The old guys sip their little espresso cups and sit on the benches closest to the building, usually holding canes and wearing hats. The younger guys at the tables with mugs, cell phones, and gold jewelry. The really young guys sort of milling about with really big to-go cups texting girls named Giana and Bella.

Yesterday, Sarah and I were walking around the neighborhood and were approaching one of these coffee shops. It was a pleasant evening, so the sidewalk was packed. No way around the mess of people. You have to at least skirt the edge of the crowd. Doing this feels a little bit like jumping into that black and white photograph, 'American Girl in Italy, 1951', but less glamorous. We're making our way through the crowd when one of the young ones turns his head directly into my ear to clear his throat and prepare to hock a huge loogie. He realizes he's doing this IN MY EAR not a moment to soon. He's able to stop himself just before the loogie flies.

Genuinely concerned, the spitter says, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"

Systems check: I am disgusted. My ear itches with the realization of what almost landed in it. Nothing actually happened. I am in fact OK. No need to make a scene. "Yeah, I'm fine. No worries." I move on, quickly.

As I walk away, I swear I can practically feel his eyes doing the head to toe once over thing. He's not seriously going to... Then, the spitter calls after me, "Yo! How you doin?"