I have a question for Zohran Mamdani. The answer to it is typically made known after work, after the commute, after the sweat is mopped off the neck. My question for Zohran is what gets you angry about living in New York. By New York I mean of course, The City.

By angry I mean severely pissed off, dumbfounded, rethinking your life choices.

 Mr. Momdani. What trips your wires? Gets your goat? Has you starting your sentence with let me tell you something? A political reporter can’t ask this question, because the response surely would be an eloquent denouncement of NYC’s affordability crisis. Which surely would be followed by a policy solution delivered with the sincerest Lin-Manuelesque optimism.

Now true, the optimism is a nice changeup from the hound dog hanging through his Charger window. But what lies beneath?       

A good friend, cousin or colleague might have a shadow of the response. Maybe they have seen him go full Turturro during an Arsenal match. A campaign aide probably has seen a choice reaction when the local train they just got off of leaves first. I bet Brad Lander knows Zohran’s true feelings about Jamaican takeout rice to oxtail ratio. 

But have any of them seen his neck swerve matched with the lip curl. My version appears when some good fellow feels that their subway swipe secures a ride with a personal cabana. To which my neck swerve and lip curl has been tastefully paired with an elbow flap.

My cousins and colleagues would be shocked, shocked to see it.     

But something must, no matter how measured and sunny he may be, get his goat. We live in New York City. The greatest city in the world. The Rotten Apple. It’s enough to make you look over your shoulder for the hidden camera. And I want to know what it is, or when it is.

It’s not that this is a tell of whether he is really one of “the people” or some leading indicator of Mr Momdani’s ability to lead the city. I don’t think anyone knows who will make a good mayor. 

We do know that the next mayor is going to deal with an unexpected crisis or three. 

When those unexpected and unavoidable moments arrive, I hope Zohran can find solid ground under his feet, for us all. It will bring me some comfort while staring out my window, that somewhere in this city is a mayor working through the long night. But first, he has to tell somebody something about the bulls$t he went through just to get home.