I had about an hour to kill before my doctors appointment and decided to take the time to take some street portraits with the new Canon 85 mm lens I had purchased the week before. As I moved from the Herald Square area towards the Fashion District just a block away on 7th. The climate quickly became more toxic. Before I knew it, I was caught up in what was obviously a pimp schooling one his ladies on the rules of the game. His aggressive and threatening attitude made an immediate impact on me. As I reached for my phone, I was quickly reminded that I had left it at home. I searched to my left and to my right but there was not one police officer in sight. I motioned to the store owner watching the scene unfold and lipped “Call 911”. Though I was filled with anger at the time. I knew that stepping in would probably make things much worse for myself, and in particular, the woman.
So instead, I did what I felt was the next best thing. I took my camera back out of it’s bag and snapped a few images to show the police if they so decided to ever show up. Minutes later, I finally saw an officer around the corner huddled inside the door of Citibank. He looked incredibly busy with his head down towards his iPhone, testing like a man on a mission to beat the record for time spent glued to the phone. I wanted to interrupt him to remind him of his actual job, but I somehow worried that it would get me the same beating that prostitute had surely gotten on a fairly regular basis.