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As a lifelong A train rider, I have come to understand it as a prime subway line for all sorts of underground activities: showtime dancers, various performers and even vendors. It runs express for more than 50 blocks in Manhattan, providing a perfectly uninterrupted seven-minute stretch for a captive audience.
It was during one of those express rides that I first saw Lorenzo Simmons, a.k.a. NYC Snackman. His setup was impressive: a handtruck stacked to the top with everything from chips to candy to Tylenol and lighters, like a bodega on wheels.
Recently, Snackman graciously agreed to let me spend a day with him, and we began in Uptown Manhattan. As he unwrapped his cart for the day, I noted how meticulous and strategic Snackman is with his routine. He places his most popular snacks — Gushers, Fruit Roll-Ups and plain Lay’s potato chips — at eye level so they’re easily accessible to folks who are sitting down on the subway seats. Up top, he keeps Blow-Pops in a plastic bag he can pull out so people don’t have to reach inside blindly. Tucked behind the cart is a compartment he calls a cabinet, where he keeps water bottles for sale, sunflower seed varieties and surplus merchandise. Everything had a place.
Snackman’s route is just as intentional as his food offerings. He starts at 125th Street because he lives nearby, and the station has the amenities he needs: a bathroom and a reliable elevator. As we descended into the station, I spotted something I thought might be our first issue: NYPD officers. The MTA’s official rules of conduct prohibit vending without a permit in the subway, so I naturally held my breath as we passed the officers. Snackman, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed — he’s been doing this long enough that he used to sell Walkman batteries and DVDs. But he occasionally gets in trouble with the police for walking through the subway car doors with his handtruck (also not allowed).
After we passed the officers without incident, Snackman began to pray. Outside of selling snacks, he’s also a minister at a local church, and says he reads Scripture before every shift “for protection.”
And then the downtown A train arrived. Snackman pushed his (at least) 100-pound cart onto the train to announce his presence. He wasn’t particularly loud or disruptive. His offerings do much of the heavy lifting when it comes to promotion. Commuters smiled as he passed, took photos of his impressive cart and even helped him maneuver around poles, feet and strollers. No one seemed particularly annoyed at his presence.
I picked up on so many fascinating moments throughout our journey. Snackman told me they were all typical in a day’s work for him. For example, a man asked Snackman for some food but said he couldn’t afford to pay. Snackman let him choose anything he wanted, free of charge. Then, not a minute later, another man gave Snackman $2 and said he didn’t need anything in return.
We also experienced some funny moments, like when we entered a car at the same time as a pair of men singing a doo-wop melody. I wondered how Snackman would handle the competition. He stopped his own announcement, giving them their chance to perform and shifted his cart to the side so they could freely move and collect tips. The singers ended up buying some snacks from him, too.
I’ll admit I was initially a bit skeptical about how many people would actually buy his snacks. But I watched him make sale after sale. We traveled all the way to Brooklyn’s Jay Street Metrotech before turning around. He often chooses this station to switch because it has a “pretty clean bathroom,” he told me. I was exhausted by the end of our journey. We’d walked through countless cars and even dealt with a broken elevator (an instance where I got to watch Snackman lug his cart up the steps).
Even though my day was done, Snackman’s wasn’t. He told me works 10-12 hours a day, six days a week, and was going back out after our meeting.
Before I left Snackman, I had one more question for him: Did he always work 12 hours, or would he call it a day early once he hit his profit goal?
“No,” he said. “There’s always one more sale to make.”
