Globalization

They came from Hoboken. Jersey City did everything it could to prepare. The visitors were young and educated. They moved en masse down Paterson Avenue past the Holland Tunnel, down Manila Boulevard, over to Grove Street and stopping at Newark Avenue.
Jersey City folks had heard the frightening stories, but if these two disparate cultures were to exist side by side there had to be a face to face meeting.
At 11am Saturday the first horde of giant strollers stopped by Grace Church. Residents held crosses out of windows, shaking in fear. Hipsters in ripped jeans and fedoras followed the strollers, some smoking cigars.
The writers, artists and musicians of JC formed a wall at the corner of Grove and Newark. At the first sign of trouble they would have fled to The Path train. They held out avocado dip and bean salad as a peace offering.
Everyone held their breath.
Amazingly the music of Enya relaxed everyone and the mellow atmosphere continued all day. A reporter asked a man his thoughts. 'I'm 82 and I never thought I'd see this. It's a miracle.'
Recipes were traded. Face painting ensued. Children had the dip and crackers. Some vomited.
Clean up duties were shared. As night fell there was some modest disrobing. True globalization.