Martinez French Dry Cleaners

There must be thousands of dry cleaners in this city.  Shoot, there are dozens on my block alone.  In fact, there are two right next to one another along the street I work on in Manhattan.  If I chose to go to either one of those, it would surely make my life much easier.  I wouldn't have to lug my shirts on the train to and fro work.  Instead, I refuse this luxury.  I walk an extra two blocks from my apartment to Martinez French Dry Cleaners and support my lovely Dominican friends.  I've been making this decision every week without flinching for a year now.  They are the sweetest people I've ever met, and they take care of me.  If I need a shirt in a pinch, before the day it's due, they always rush the order to help me.  If I don't have cash to cover it, they say, "It's okay!  You pay next time."  It's a family operation, and they treat their customers with love and respect.  That's the type of place I want to go to.

The other day, I was walking around the neighborhood taking pictures of graffiti, and stopped in to pick up my dry cleaning.  I was talking with the owner, and he told me he too was a wedding photographer back in the Dominican Republic through the 80's.  He proceeded to brake out some of his old cameras and take them apart.  It was amazing seeing these dusty old creatures of film that probably hadn't been used in over 20 years.  As usual, his crazy friend hung out behind the counter telling jokes, laughing at himself like a hyena, as we talked shop.  We may not always understand each other due to language barriers, but their smiles say everything.  Yes, I will stay with Mr. Martinez and Co.  They are my people, they are my neighborhood, and they are my friends.

Mike